


Life 15

by the_link_dock



Series: Master of Death Harry Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Apathy, But they also aren't very important, Dark Harry, Depression, Do-Over, Draco Malfoy is a Good Friend, Draco Malfoy is a little gay, Eating Disorder, Gen, Good Draco, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Harry Potter is So Done, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Hogwarts, Homoerotic Tendencies, Horcruxes, Humor, I'm making that a tag because Harry Potter is precious, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Master of Death, Mild Hurt/Comfort, MoD Harry, No Weasley Bashing, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Parseltongue, Passive Agressive Letters, Passive-aggression, Past Child Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Tom Riddle, Precious Harry, Precious Harry Potter, Protective Draco Malfoy, Ravenclaw Harry, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Reference Suicide, Sassy Harry, Sassy Harry Potter, Sexual Abuse, Smart Harry, Smart Harry Potter, Socially awkward, Suicide Attempt, Thoughts of Suicide, Tom Riddle Being an Asshole, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Wizarding Traditions (Harry Potter), adding more tags as I go along, parselmouth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-12-16 08:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21033122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_link_dock/pseuds/the_link_dock
Summary: On life 15, Harry decided to keep to himself. Being the Master of Death meant that he was cursed to relive his life over and over again. At this point he finds it hard to care about anything.





	1. Year 1

On life 15, Harry distanced himself from everyone within the magical world. He didn’t have to worry about the muggles; the Dursley’s took care of that for him. 

Dudley constantly scared off any kids that tried to be Harry’s friend, and Harry was completely fine with that. In all honesty, he was relieved. With Dudley being his typical, brutish self, Harry didn’t have to worry about children blabbering on about the newest toy. 

When his letter came in the mail, he hid it in his cupboard and began writing back before he realised he didn’t have a way to return his response. 

Instead, he waited until Aunt Petunia was home by herself; Dudley was at a friends and Vernon was at work. 

“Aunt Petunia, I got a letter.”

She snorted and dipped her tea. “Sure you did. Stole one of Diddums letters, did you?”

“No, Aunt Petunia. It says it’s from Hogwarts.”

Her cup clinked against the saucer and she stared at the wall with wide eyes. 

“I read it. I know I’m a wizard. And I know it isn’t a prank because Dudley isn’t smart enough to come up with this; and you would never do something so freakish.”

Petunia slowly turned her stare to him and he raised an eyebrow as he continued. 

“Vernon is so afraid of magic, he wouldn’t dare do this. I’m going to Hogwarts this September. A man will pick me up sometime in the upcoming weeks, but I don’t know how to send a response. If you don’t help me, the house will be overrun with letters requesting I go.”

She gave him stamps and the address that muggleborns used to send their response. 

When Hagrid came to take him to Diagonal Alley, Petunia told Vernon it was one of the teachers at St. Brutus’s that was going to take Harry out of their hair for the day. 

Harry kept the conversation between himself and Hagrid to a minimum. 

He didn’t ask Ollivander why it was curious he got a phoenix feather wand. 

He didn’t ask Hagrid why he was famous. 

He could see Hagrid was getting discouraged at his lack of excitement, and felt relief at that. There was a time when Harry has loved Hagrid greatly, but after so many times of encouraging the half-giant despite his numerous faults, Harry just wanted to get this over with. 

He never got Hedwig, and for that he was glad too. He didn’t want to lose her again. 5 times was enough. 

He was civil with Malfoy in the robes shop, saying enough to make it clear he wasn’t oblivious but not enough to seem overly important. 

He didn’t ask for help to get to Platform 9 3/4. He didn’t ask the clan of red heads how to get onto the platform. 

He slid open the door to a compartment he knew would be empty and settled in for a long ride. 

When an eleven-year-old Ronald Weasley asked to sit with him, Harry politely said no. 

When Hermione Granger asked if he’d seen a toad, no one was there to perform a spell for her to critique, and she quickly moved on when he’d said no. 

He didn’t open the door when the trolley lady came around and when it was time for everyone to get off, he got in a boat with people he didn’t know. 

They were quiet and he was able to enjoy the ride across the lake in serene silence, idly placing his hand in the chilly water as they drifted towards the castle. 

He heard Malfoy boasting about Harry Potter while they were waiting outside of the Great Hall and said nothing. 

When the grand doors opened, he glanced around the room in disinterest before settling his gaze upon the staff table. He knew Snape would be staring at him, and that Quirrel would look for him. 

He was sorted into Ravenclaw after almost two minutes of deliberation over Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Because of his indifference, the Hat put him with the Claws, saying Slytherins had ambition.

Harry offered enough conversation to not be labelled at a brat, but made it clear to the older students that he would prefer to be left alone. 

The other first years took a little longer to receive the message and kept asking him about his scar and the night his parents died. 

He slept in a dorm with three other boys; Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Roger Davies. 

Corner was annoying and felt he had a right to know every aspect of Harry’s life, but Davies made it clear that he was being an ass. 

Davies was not a first year. Ravenclaws had three first years and an older student share a dorm. It made more sense than five boys sharing a dorm, in Harry’s opinion. 

With Davies there, he would make sure they knew where to go, what time to be up, and he could help with questions they had or with homework. 

He didn’t pay much attention to Snape’s goading on the first day; he answered the questions first and second years would know, but fell silent with anything beyond a third year’s knowledge. 

He took Neville’s remembrall before Malfoy could, and owled it to him anonymously with one of the school’s owls. 

He was paired with the Ravenclaw Patil twin, and found her tolerable when she got over his status, which only took five minutes. 

She quickly adapted to his demeanour, pleasantly surprising Harry greatly. She’s kept conversations not regarding school work to a minimal and mostly asked about magical theories and things she didn’t quite understand, and wanted a different perspective. 

Harry would not call them friends, but she was one of the few on a very short list of people Harry could say he fairly liked. Short as in, two people were on it. (The other was Davies.)

Harry ignored his teacher’s attempts to talk to him about his personal life, aside from Flitwick; as he was the head of house Harry allowed him certain questions and answers. 

When he asked how Harry was adjusting to the wizarding world, Harry told him he was doing fine. Flitwick asked about his classes and Harry told him he was doing fine. Flitwick asked about friends and Harry couldn’t even bother trying to smile in a reassuring way. 

Internally, he rolled his eyes. Instead of doing that outwards, he explained that he didn’t much like children his own age and wasn’t sure how to interact with anyone older.

It was as close to the truth as anyone would figure out. Harry was too old to connect with immature kids and teens were hardly better; pent up emotions and raging hormones. 

He kept himself sane by talking to the ghosts. Sometimes he would just sit with one of them and read while they prattled on to the only ‘kid’ who’d listen. 

It was the ghosts he escaped to when the living were too obnoxious. 

Through the first half of the year, Draco had done just about everything he could to get on good terms with Harry. 

The first attempt was power. 

Draco saw Harry sitting by himself in the library and bragged to Goyle and Parkinson about how his father worked in the ministry and had a lot of connections. 

“My father was invited to the Minister’s Yule Ball by the minister himself!” The blonde exclaimed loudly. 

“I’m going to the ball as well, we got our invitation last week. What about you, Goyle?” Parkinson said. 

“Father didn’t say anything about it. Bet it’s because of what happened two years ago.”

Harry didn’t know what happened two years ago, but imagined it was a minor offence blown out of proportion. 

When that didn’t work, he tried to entice Harry with money. 

The blonde “accidentally” ran into harry and broke his glasses, offering to pay for a full on optometrist appointment along with new specs. 

“Apologies. My father will pay for replacements. He can pay for an appointment as well if—“

He was cut off by Harry’s occulus repairo. 

“Don’t worry about it, these work fine. Sorry about,” Harry gestured to the both of them before sparing a glance at Malfoy’s eyes before turning his head down and walking to charms. 

Draco tried bonding over quidditch, before abandoning that idea after Harry’s clear lack of interest. 

Harry had been minding his own business in the library and had the misfortune of sitting at a table with an abandoned Quidditch Throughout the Ages book, making it look like he was interested in the subject. 

Malfoy took it upon himself to share his own opinions. 

“I think it’s ridiculous first years can’t join the quidditch team. I’ve been flying since I could walk!”

Harry opted not to respond. 

“So are you for the Bats or the Catapults?”

Harry stared blankly at Draco. 

“You know, England or Ireland?” Draco prompted. 

“I don’t much have an opinion. I was raised by muggles, you know.” He had hoped that would curb Malfoy’s interest. 

It didn’t. 

He tried the money thing again, but this time with sweets; which Harry also refused. 

Eventually, Draco’s attempts tapered off until he was passive aggressively showing off his “superiority” by constantly getting presents from home. 

Weasley tried to be friends as well, but was quickly shut down. After seeing the boy-who-lived wasn’t a quidditch loving hero, Ron quickly lost interest and became close friends with Seamus’s Finnigan and Dean Thomas. 

Harry felt a little sorry for Hermione; seeing her sit by herself in every class and sit away from everyone during meals. But he knew it was for the best, especially at this age when all she wanted to do was prove she belonged here. She was annoying in class and Harry did not want to deal with it during his free time. 

A lot of people that looked at Harry would say he’s not a happy child, that he was isolated and emotionless. 

But when Harry was in the privacy of the Come-and-Go room or the kitchens, he felt himself relax. 

He would read and let himself react to the text. He’d laugh and smiled to himself at something particularly witty, and even repeat out loud what characters would say; and sigh when the characters sighed. 

One tome he got so frustrated, he set the book down and talked to one of the house-elves for almost an hour before feeling stable enough to return to the story. 

On Halloween, a troll mysteriously wound up in the dungeons. Hermione was not within hearing distance when Rob made fun of her, and went to the Gryffindor tower with the other lions. 

Harry spared a glance to Snape glaring daggers at Quirrel’s “unconscious” body, before one of the prefects harshly tugged at his arm to make him move. 

Harry gave the boy a glare and shook him off before following the other Ravenclaws to their tower. 

He felt Quirrel watching him leave and his head twitched in an effort to not turn and stare back. 

The troll was caught in a girls lavatory and taken down by five teachers. 

He stayed in the castle for Christmas. The Ravenclaw common room was decorated with with shimmering snowflakes that disappeared before they reached the floor. 

There was a Christmas tree decorated with pictures of Hogwarts alumni and ornaments with brooms, candy canes, and spheres. 

Harry unsurprisingly got one gift, his invisibility cloak from Dumbledore. 

Much to his surprise, Harry received four letters. 

One from Patil, wishing him a happy holiday and asking about muggle traditions and if he thought weather charms were plausible on a wide scale to make it snow. 

The second was from Davies containing a general yule greeting, likely send to everyone that shared his dorm.

The third was from Flitwick, similar to Davies but a bit less personal. It wished him a happy Christmas and reminded him to do any assigned homework. 

The fourth was from Malfoy. It was the most personal. Malfoy wrote about what he hoped he got for Yule, wrote how the ministry ball went and what he wore. And he invited Harry to be his guest next year, assuming the Malfoy’s would be re-invited, which Draco expressed his confidence that they would. 

He briefly explained to Padma what some traditions he remembered the Dursley’s doing before telling her to visit a muggle village if she was that curious. 

He listed sources on cooling charms as well as conjuring spells and told her to figure it out herself. He phrased it in a different way in his letter. 

He didn’t respond to Davies or Flitwick, deciding he could thank Davies in person and not respond to Flitwick at all. 

Malfoy’s was more tricky. Harry hadn’t experienced a life where Malfoy was so intent on befriending him. 

Harry sat in the library for hours trying to decide what to write without seeming too stand-offish or like an idiot. 

When he was finished, there was still much to be desired. 

“Dear Malfoy,

Happy Yule. I stayed at the school for the holidays. I didn’t have a Yule list of presents I wanted, but I was pleasantly surprised to receive your letter among three others. 

I heard Professor Quirrel was invited to the Minister’s Ball. Is that true?

I’m unsure of next years plans for Yule, but when the time is closer I will give you a more definite answer. 

Regards,

Harry Potter”

Harry cringed as he sent it off. 

Quirrel wasn’t able to get the stone. He waited in the dungeons for the boy that never arrived, and was in class teaching during the next term. 

And if he glared at Harry in the great Hall during meals, who’d be the wiser?

Certainly not Harry, who was enamoured in his research about memory charms and their counterparts.


	2. Year 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry begins year two trying to figure out how to stop the basilisk.

Harry’s second year at Hogwarts was much like the first, and yet he could not manage to find the isolation that came so easily the previous year. 

Malfoy “Call me Draco” was insistent on becoming friends. 

Despite Harry’s polite decline of company, Malfoy forced himself in and Brought along Parkinson. Harry was just grateful he hadn’t brought Crabbe and Goyle. 

“So how was your summer Harry?” Malfoy asked as he plopped himself on the other side of the car. 

Harry had already decided he would not hide the abuse and neglect he suffered from the Dursley’s as fervently as his first few lives, but that didn’t mean he was going to advertise it as well. 

“Same as usual, and yourself?”

“Same for me I suppose. We went to France, not that exciting. I went to a couple of Quidditch matches and I practiced flying so I could try out for the Slytherin team.” The blonde boasted. 

“Really, Draco? You’d have to be amazing for them to let you join, what position?” Parkinson asked. She had kind of a low voice and talked as if she was amazed and condescending at the same time. 

“Seeker. Father says it’s the most dignified.”

“What about you Parkinson, how was your summer?” 

She looked startled that he’d asked her but quickly shook it off. “My family spent some time in France as well. My father met with Draco’s a few times. We also went to Italy, which I found much more exciting. Have you ever been to Italy?”

She sounded haughty, but Harry knew she was genuinely curious. 

“I haven’t been outside of London before Hogwarts.”

Draco elbowed Pansy and not so quietly hissed, “He was raised by muggles, numpty!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Muggles travel.” His interjection made the two of them jump. “My relatives travel quite a lot, just this past year they went to Germany.”

“You didn’t go?” Pansy asked confused. 

Harry gave a small, secretive smile that managed to look both sad and cheeky at once. “I had...other arrangements.”

His other arrangements came in the form of his neighbour, Mrs. Figg and her five living cats. Not that they needed to know. 

“So, Malfoy—“

“Call me Draco.”

“—anything I should look forward to this year?” It was an honest question. Although Harry knew about the diary, he wanted to know if Lucius had told his son. 

“Of course, I’m going to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team! But, you don’t watch much Quidditch do you?” 

“I don’t fancy it either. Did you know there are 700 fouls?” Pansy said, leaning in as if it were a conspiracy. 

“Did you know the snitch was named after a golden bird, the snidget? They used to have to catch the bird but it became such a popular sport, they became extinct.” Harry countered. 

He didn’t want them as friends, but he could get used to them. 

He could not get used to them. 

Already Malfoy had tried to take Patil’s place as Harry’s potions partner. And that caused a minor fight between Parkinson and Malfoy because the two of them were supposed to be partners. 

“Oi, Pavarti, move.” He was surprisingly crass. 

She looked at him like he’d gone mad, “Excuse me?” She was sitting to Harry’s right while Harry was resolutely avoiding the scene happening beside him. 

“I’m going to be Harry’s partner.”

Now this was something Harry could not ignore. He gave a heavy sigh as he swivelled to face Draco. They had accumulated a small gaggle of on-lookers. 

“N—Malfoy—“

“Draco! We’re supposed to be partners!” Parkinson seemed scandalised. 

“Well—be partners with Pavarti!”

“I’m Padma!” Finally Patil interjected while her eyes narrowed and her cheeks darkened. “And for the record, I will be Potter’s partner because we work together! Both literally and metaphorically!”

Harry had to agree with her. “Sorry, Malfoy. I have to side with the girls. I’ve been Patil’s partner ever since I started Hogwarts—“

“That was last year!”

“—and besides, it isn’t like you’re in need of one, Parkinson is right there!”

Malfoy was muttering the rest of class. Pansy was glaring at Malfoy and the wall. 

Harry rolled his eyes and focused and the lesson. 

After class, Parkinson became “Call me Pansy.”

Harry needed to stop making friends. 

Then there was the matter of Lockhart. He was annoying and arrogant as ever. 

When he showed the class the pixies and Finnigan laughed, Harry interjected before the professor could set them free. 

“Sir, perhaps you should tell Finnigan what freshly caught pixies are like, rather than unleashing them.” He raised his hand but didn’t wait to be called on. 

He got stared at because he often didn’t talk in lessons, or at all. But it got Lockhart to put his wand away and give a dramatic rendering of Pixies wild behaviour. 

If Harry hadn’t experienced it first hand, he would’ve rolled his eyes like everyone else. 

When he first heard the hissing in the walls say “kill” he ignored it. 

Like always, Mrs. Norris turned up petrified next to a message written in chicken blood. Only, Ginny was in the Great Hall. Harry had been keeping an eye on here, while making sure she couldn’t see him, and he had seen her at dinner. 

That meant someone else had the diary. This was a first. 

When the hissing happened again he hissed back. 

§Why do you want to kill?§

There was nonsensical hissing in reply and Harry figured the snake couldn’t hear him. 

Malfoy unsurprisingly made the Slytherin Quidditch and became their Seeker. Harry was surprised that the blonde actually wanted to and it wasn’t just Potter-Malfoy rivalry. 

The Slytherin’s won against Gryffindor and Draco was able to brag to his father. 

Harry pretended to read as he listened to Malfoy brag to him and Parkinson and hid a smile behind his book. 

The halls were filled with talk of the Heir of Slytherin was everywhere. 

Even Patil couldn’t avoid talking about it. 

“Do you have any guesses as to who the Heir is?”

Harry snorted as he stirred his potion three times counter clockwise, “Sure, Malfoy.” 

He said it as if he was answering what two plus two was. Of course it wasn’t Malfoy, but it could make sense if you were a twelve year old. 

He heard a crash behind him and looked at Snape to see him with wide eyes and a curled lip. 

The disgust was a usual look on him, but surprise?

Harry turned and saw Parkinson furiously muttering cleaning spells at her cauldron while Malfoy flipped through the pages of his Potions book. 

When Colin Creevey ended up in the hospital, Harry visited him. 

They hadn’t spoken this year, in fact after Life 9 Harry lost most of his compassion for the overzealous boy. 

He looked a the blonde boy’s face scrunched up in fear and curled his lip in disgust. Colin was a stalker and yet, this boy died many times trying to fight Voldemort. 

When Harry left, if there was enough money to buy Colin a new camera found in his robes, who would be the wiser?

Harry considered whatever debt he owed Colin for his contribution paid. 

Harry found himself standing in the Chamber of Secrets with his invisibility shrunken in his pocket one afternoon. It was nearing Halloween and he didn’t want to wait until Christmas. 

He brought an extra tie with him, and once he was by Slytherin’s statue he tied it over his eyes to avoid a premature death or petrification.

Then he stood there. 

“I forgot the words.”

He felt like hitting himself, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. Who could he ask? Not Tom Riddle, he didn’t know who had the diary. 

“Er—§basilisk?§”

Not how he wanted his first impression to be this lifetime but, the statues mouth opened. 

He heard movement but couldn’t tell when the basilisk made it out. 

§Master has left me dinner.§

Harry held his hands up, §No! Not dinner, not me! I’m a speaker!§

He didn’t know how, but he could tell the basilisk got extremely close to him and started tasting the air around him. 

§Speaker does not smell of master.§

§No, I wouldn’t. Could you tell me your name?§

§No name.§

Harry furrowed his brows. §No name? You don’t have one?§

§No name.§ She repeated. 

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. §Do you want a name? How about Lis?§

§Master has named Lis.§

Harry blanched. §Wait I’m—now I’m master!?§

That was a lot easier than he thought. 

§Ok, wait. What does the other one look like?§

Lis hissed in delight, §Master has come back, Master—§

§Yes, Tom Riddle, not him. Who is he inhabiting?§

There was no response. 

§Lis? Who is Tom Riddle—Master—possessing? What does master look like?§

He heard a deep hum and nearly jumped out of his skin towards the direction. “I must say, I like hearing you call me master. Especially blindfolded.”

Harry knew that voice. 

God dammit. 

“Malfoy!? §Lis, are you looking away?§”

§Yes, master.§

Harry tore his “blindfold” down to his neck and scrunched his eyes against the assault of light before squinting at Malfoy’s possessed form. 

Then he turned his head towards Lis but kept his eyes trained on Malfoy. §You don’t have to call me master. I’m fine with Harry or Speaker.§

§Yes, master.§

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, §No—that’s n—you know what? Thank you sweetheart, could you—er—go back now? Please?§

The basilisk hissed about sleep before slithering back into Slytherin’s mouth. 

Harry turned to look back at Malfoy possessed by Riddle and took several steps back when he noticed how close they had gotten. 

“Whoa, back up. Personal space.” Malfoy-Riddle kept advancing on him, leading to a slow circling of the two. 

“So it really was Malfoy? Maybe I’m a seer.”

Malfoy-Riddle gave a humourless snort and a sharp grin that looked wrong on Malfoy’s face. “That would explain how you know who I am.”

Harry’s heart stopped. “I dreamt about you.”

That did not sound at all like he intended. He felt his cheeks warm and Malfoy-Riddle laughed. 

“Not like that, pervert. I’m like, twelve. Aren’t you fifteen?” Harry gave him a once over before smirking. 

“You’re a lot less intimidating as Malfoy.”

Malfoy-Riddle growled and lunges at Harry, crashing into him and bringing them both down on the wet concrete. Harry forgot how neglected he was at the Dursley’s and how toned Malfoy was getting from Quidditch. 

In no time, Harry had his arms pinned to his sides by Malfoy-Riddle’s knees as the boy(s) sat on him. 

When Harry tried to wriggle his way out, Malfoy-Riddle just closed his legs tighter. 

Harry blew out a breath and glared at Malfoy-Riddle. 

“Now, what?” He asked dully. 

Malfoy-Riddle smirked. He pulled Harry’s tie up around his mouth and jerked back with a laugh when Harry tried to bite him. 

Harry swung his leg up and kicked the back of Malfoy-Riddle’s head. When the boy(s) tumbled forward Harry rolled them over and pulled his wand out of his cloak and shoved it under the blonde’s neck. 

He had one of his hands on Malfoy-Riddle’s chest to steady himself and used his tongue to force the tie out of his mouth. 

Malfoy-Riddle huffed out a laugh and laid his head down. “Go on then.”

Harry glared and grit his teeth. He pushed the wand harder against Malfoy-Riddle’s skin before growling and pushing himself up and off of him. 

“What, that’s it?” Malfoy-Riddle asked confused. 

Harry stopped a few feet away and glared over his shoulder to see Malfoy sitting upright propped with his arms. 

“I don’t—I don’t know how to get you out.” Harry ground out. 

Malfoy-Riddle started laughing. 

Harry mimicked him and crossed his arms. “You’re laughing now but I know you can’t stay in Draco for long periods of time.”

Malfoy-Riddle opened his mouth but Harry didn’t let him speak. 

“Ah! The moment you try to get your corporeal form, I know how to destroy you. I can wait.”

Malfoy-Riddle looked at him thoughtfully before narrowing his eyes. “You know what I am?”

Harry didn’t blink. “Of course. You’re a memory trapped in an object for over fifty years, I know because I saw your prefect’s badge in the trophy room.”

That was a lie. 

Riddle didn’t need to know that. 

“How about this, you get out of my friend, and I won’t destroy you.”

Malfoy-Riddle glared. “I’m not going to be trapped in that god forsaken diary forever.”

Harry allowed a smug smirk, “So it’s a diary?”

Riddle didn’t need to know he already knew. Riddle gave a yell and charged at him, but this time Harry had enough distance to run away. 

He was a good runner. 

“This is achieving nothing!” Harry yelled over his shoulder as he turned to begin a circle. 

“I will achieve at catching you and silencing your insolence!” Malfoy-Riddle yelled. 

“I’ve been training my whole life, you can’t catch me! And I’m twelve, what did you expect!”

It seemed Riddle forgot they were wizards. Harry cast a silent stupefy at the blonde and came to a stop a few paces away. 

Harry bent down besides him and looked into Malfoy’s eyes before searching through his robe and pulling out the diary. 

He cast a spell to make Malfoy fall asleep before moving to sit cross-legged beside him and conjuring a quill and ink. 

“Riddle, I will return you to Lucius Malfoy with instructions to write you and learn the ritual to free you. Do not take this as a free exchange. One day will come when I need a favour, and you are going to give it to me. Draco will have no memory of this or his possession.”

Harry Closed the diary before he got a response and Obliviated Draco before they left. 

Using his invisibility cloak, he was able to sneak the two outside before making his way toward the whomping willow and rennervating Draco after hexing a few harmless cuts and bruises on the boy. 

“Merlin, Draco! I saw you get hit by the Whomping Willow, are you okay?” Harry rushed over to the blonde and saw him wildly looking around before settling on Harry. 

“I’m a Malfoy, of course I’m okay! But, I did just fight a Whomping Willow, so if you could help me to the infirmary...”

Harry Hid his smile as he put Draco’s arm around his shoulder and hauled the blonde to the infirmary. 

Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad. 

He forgot about the ministry ball.


	3. Year 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Year 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've combined the separate parts of Year Three into one chapter, and added a few scenes. These new scenes are marked with a line of +++++++++++, so if you scroll through, you'll find them and you won't have to re-read too much.

Harry felt bad for not caring more about Sirius. The fact that his godfather was wasting away in a cold cell had always been in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

He’d done it before; on life 4 he’d worked to get Sirius out at the beginning of his third year, and he’d ended up at the Dursley’s. No matter what Harry did to get Sirius out, or when, Dumbledore always insisted Harry go back to the Dursley’s.

Although Harry new Sirius would be happier if he could get out earlier, Harry couldn’t bother to muster up the energy to get him out. It was tedious to convince Ron to give him Scabbers; it’d be even harder when they were in different houses and not friends.

So, Harry decided to let Sirius and Remus sort themselves out.

When Marge came to visit, Harry convinced Petunia to let him stay with a friend and had her tell Vernon it would be better without the freak there to antagonise Marge.

He quickly agreed under the premise that he would not be taking Harry where ever he needed to go.

Harry went to Diagon Ally and went to the Owl Post office and wrote a letter to someone who was almost as annoying as Voldemort.

Malfoy “Call Me Draco”.

“Dear Draco,

I’m in a bit of a difficult situation. I left my relatives early and would rather not stay at the Leaky Cauldron. Would you be willing to put up with me for a few weeks?

Write back to the Owl Post, I’ll be in Knocturn Alley for the foreseeable future.

Regards,

Harry Potter”

After Harry sent off the letter, he asked a nearby adult to shrink his trunk and put it in his pocket. Then he made his way to Knocturn Alley and tried to find an inn if Malfoy couldn’t house him.

He was leaving Borgin and Burke’s when two hands grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

Harry was surprised to feel his heart rate sky rocket and cold fill his stomach. His eyes were wide and his hands gripped the bony wrists attached to the hands digging into his shoulders.

He let out a breath of relief when he saw the pale face and blonde hair of Draco Malfoy. Grey eyes looked him over and Harry relaxed his posture.

“Merlin, Draco, you scared the— “

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing here!?” The blonde cut him off with a hiss. Draco looked around them to see a few lecherous grins directed at them.

Draco pulled them off to the side and started muttering to himself before shaking off Harry’s hands and reaching into his robe for a bracelet.

“This is a portkey. Assuming you don’t know what that is, it will take us to my house and we will talk there. My father knows you’re coming. Grab the other side,” he instructed, holding out the bracelet.

Draco murmured something and before Harry could decipher what the blonde had said, the two were whisked away from the dark alley.

The ended up in the Malfoy Manor foyer.

Harry fell on the ground with a groan but nuzzled his face against the plush carpet. He heard Draco growl and turned his gaze up to the blonde lazily.

“What were you thinking!? You’re the bloody Boy-Who-Lived! Do you know how many people want you dead!? Especially there!”

Harry pushed himself up enough to sit cross-crossed. “Draco, I think you’re overreacting— “

“Are you kidding me!? Harry—you’re—“ Draco yelled in frustration.

Harry allowed a small smile to slip onto his face, “Really Draco, I was fine, I was just looking at the— “

Harry cut himself off with a flinch when he saw Draco raise his hand.

Mentally, he sighed. Every time his life started over, he had to break his knee-jerk reaction of avoiding touch. He thought he got over this at the Ministry Ball last yule.

Harry had his head bent low and his arms braces over his face and had shifted his knees closer to his body.

Draco stared at him with horrified eyes. “Harry, I’m not—I’m not going to hit you—I just— “

Harry could barely hear what the blonde was saying over his own mental scolding. He should be over this. The Dursley’s haven’t been able to touch him for almost two years now, aside from the occasional Harry Hunting by Dudley and his gang.

When Harry mentally resolved to settle this later, he looked up to see Draco on the ground beside him talking to a painfully familiar house elf.

“—and tell her to hurry, I don’t know what to do,” was the bit that Harry caught.

“What, Draco, who?” Harry hates how soft his voice sounded and glared at himself before lowering his arms and relax his position.

Draco looked like he wanted to reach out to Harry but he put both of his arms down, making sure they were visible to the darker haired boy.

“Harry, you—I couldn’t get you to talk to me, you were—you were,” his pale cheeks were slightly flushed but Harry knew it wasn’t from embarrassment.

“Yea, I get lost in my head. It happens a lot.”

Draco frowned at his response.

“Yes, but—never mind. My mother is on her way to examine you. She’s a healer— “

Harry jumped off the ground and backed away from Draco.

“No, I’m fine. See, I’m fine. I don’t need a healer. I don’t need— “

What was he doing? He’d already decided he wasn’t going to hide the Dursley’s abuse and yet he didn’t want Draco to find out about it.

He jolted when he heard Narcissa coming down the stairs and an alarming rate.

“Dragon, what is it?” She sounded calm for someone who was clearly distressed.

Draco risked a glance at Harry, who had backed himself against a wall and was dangerously close to the main doors.

Narcissa followed his gaze and saw a wide-eyed boy that reminded her of her Dragon.

Harry felt like a deer in headlights, if the headlights were icy grey eyes piercing his soul.

They stood in a tense silence for several moments for everyone to process what was happening.

Harry broke the silence with a small voice that he made louder at the end, “I’m Harry—er—Potter.”

What followed was the most uncomfortable situation of Harry’s life. (Of Life 15, anyways. On Life 6 there had been an incident with someone’s brother and—it didn’t matter.)

Harry had allowed Narcissa to give him a physical under the pretense that it was completely confidential and, after a slight mental debate, that Draco be present but not be allowed to see what his mother saw.

Draco smiled warmly at him and Harry hunched his shoulders as his face heated up. He wanted to clarify it was because he didn’t completely trust his mother, at least not so early on, but figured that would not go well.

By the end of it, Narcissa did not find near as much as the first seven lives.

The most she found was a few mis-healed bones and a minor case of malnutrition.

Harry had to fight to keep the surprise off of his face. This was the least worrying his health had been since...ever.

She told him that his lack of nutrients was why he was so small, but he waved her off, not telling her he had heard this many times. He’d heard it twice already in this life from two muggle doctors.

They ate lunch together, and Harry was polite with the house-elves, pointedly ignoring Narcissa’s disgust and Draco’s disdainful confusion.

Harry buried his head in his hands when Draco tattled about his whereabouts.

“It was just until I heard back from you and it’s not like anyone recognised me!” Harry defended.

Narcissa sipped her tea with cool indifference. “I must side with Draco on this, Mr. Potter. It was very dangerous to go to Knocturne Alley. Especially as young as you are. Lucius and I do not allow Draco to go on his own. Ignoring that you are the “Saviour of the Wizarding World,” she said his title with a sneer and he grinned, “Knocturne is not home to the morally high sort.”

Harry’s eyes widened when he realised what she meant. He hadn’t even considered that there would be pedophiles.

He held back a shudder and shook his head to clear past unwanted memories.

He looked down and apologised for his rash behaviour. Narcissa nodded at him and Draco waved him off.

Meeting Lucius was another affair entirely. Because Harry had not freed Dobbs in this life, Malfoy Sr. held no animosity towards him, other than the expected “you killed my lord.” And he hid that rather well.

In fact, the rest of his summer with the Malfoy’s went surprisingly well. He mainly stuck with Draco, opting to stay on the ground and read while the blonde flew on his broom to start warming up for next year’s Quidditch season.

They fell into an easy schedule. Breakfast was attended by everyone, lunch was with Narcissa and Draco, and dinner was just the boys, Lucius often joined them but it wasn’t considered odd if he missed the meal to work on some “secret project” he had been working on for several months. Draco explained that his mother had frequent dinner parties with other pure blood women.

Harry tried to ignore the pang at the thought of Draco eating alone when both of his parents were away.

Draco didn’t seem to bothered, and Harry could see the affection Narcissa his in her eyes and actions as well as hear the warmth that Lucius let into his voice when addressing his son.

Harry felt a pang in his chest, but for a different reason. However, he would not let himself be jealous of what Draco had and quickly adapted to being the odd ball of the house.

Draco had allowed him access to the Malfoy library, with some restrictions, one Saturday before he had gone off to a luncheon with his mother.

Narcissa only gave him a stern glare before turning and disappearing into their ornate fireplace that danced with green flames. Draco rolled his eyes and waved good-bye before he too disappeared.

Harry was curled on the floor in one of the isles when he heard two male voices enter the library.

Harry was about to announce himself when his insides froze at the realisation of just who was in the library.

“Lucius, where are the others,” a voice drawled. It was deeper than Harry’s, but not more so than the voice of Lucius that answered.

“My wife and son are out of the manor.”

Tom Riddle hummed in response and Harry felt his eyebrow twitch. Had Lucius forgot he was here?

“You are dismissed. I will call you if you are needed.”

Harry made sure his breathing was silent. Slowly, and with slightly shaking hands, he shut the book he was reading (a book on outlawed potions) and set it on the floor besides him.

Draco had told him that the house-elves put the books away but Harry often liked to do it himself. Today, he would make an exception as he got up into a crouch and left the book on the floor.

He listened to the sound of a book being dragged off of a shelf and the sound of someone sighing as they sunk into the lavish couch placed in the centre of the library’s entrance.

Harry carefully let himself fall to his knees before crawling to the edge of the bookshelf and seeing the back of Tom Riddle’s head.

Harry moves back behind the shelf and thought to himself. He had plenty of years’ worth of experience in sneaking around, but this young dark lord would be vigilante.

Harry nearly gasped as his eyes dropped to his smile and a roguish grin overtook his face.

He was about to play a dangerous game. Harry shifted slowly until he was sitting with his back against the opposite shelf and began untying his shoes and placing them upside down next to his book and the rubber of the bottoms wouldn’t make as much noise.

He had socks on, which would greatly help with the least amount of noise; but the Malfoy library had wood floors decorated by lavish rugs. If Harry slipped, that would be the end.

He pressed himself up into a crouch and shifted to look at Tom Riddle and saw the older boy had not moved. Harry pushed himself to stand up and crept towards the couch. Harry stood on his tiptoes to see what Riddle was reading, but quickly moved back when he noticed his shadow would be cast on the pages.

Then he had a stroke of genius. He quickly walked backwards, making sure to stay in the middle of the aisle and kept walking when he passed his original hiding spot.

When he was the farther beck he could get, he crossed his fingers and prayed that his plan would work.

He inhaled deeply and breathed out his word, “Dobby.”

There was a loud pop as the elf appeared in front of Harry. “What is H— “

Harry spring into action and so did Tom Riddle. Harry lurched forward and covered Dobby’s mouth with one hand while his other was secured around the back of the elf’s head so he wouldn’t move.

Tom Riddle was stalking towards the source of the noise with a wand drawn in his hand.

“Kitchens. Kitchens. Take me to the kitch—IEEE,” Harry cut himself off with a scream when Riddle aimed a reduction at his hiding spot.

Harry braces himself, but when he opened his eyes, he was in the kitchens with twenty something elves staring at him with wide eyes.

Harry’s heart started beating again, and he pulled Dobby into an awkward hug. “I’m sorry for grabbing you like that, thank you. So much, seriously. I have to go hide now.”

He pulled back and gave a small smile at Dobby’s watering eyes before darting out of the kitchens and into his room.

That went well.

**¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬**

The rest of the summer went surprisingly well. He stayed with Draco at all times, the blond was most certainly enjoying the extra attention, and Harry refused to be in the library alone.

When Draco inevitably had to go out with his mother or had “meetings” with his friends, (Harry called them what they were: play dates, but Draco was adamant that they weren’t), Harry locked himself in his room with the most powerful warding he could do in a thirteen-year-olds body.

The magic of the Malfoy Manor concealed his own, and there was no letter from the Ministry of Magic proclaiming him expelled.

Near the end of the summer, when Draco was bouncing off the walls with excitement of going school shopping, news of Sirius Black broke out.

Harry and Draco heard about it when they passed by Lucius’s study. Lucius was sitting behind an ornate desk, decorated with ink wells and feather quills, as well as a stack of documents. Narcissa was lounging elegantly on one of the lavish emerald chairs angled in front of the desk.

Draco tugged Harry to hide behind him at the doorway and the blonde listened in while Harry summoned “A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions”. Having heard this conundrum countless times, he could probably recite the article in the Daily Profit by memory.

He leaned his back against the wall and found the page he had left off on and was about to immerse himself in the book when Narcissa finally spoke up and caught his attention.

“Lucius, what will we do about Harry? He cannot possibly go back to those filthy muggles, but with Sirius on the loose— “

“Cissa,” Lucius interjected softly, “I do not think your cousin will be much of a threat. Certainly, no more than you or I. The Dark Lord never mentioned that Sirius Black was in his service, and he told us of the inner circle everything about the recruits so as to not give each other away. Mr. Potter will be safe here over the winter holidays, of that I am sure.”

Harry was slightly impressed by Lucius. He was also dubious about the amount of trust Lucius had in Voldemort sharing his secret death eaters.

Harry looked up abruptly as his scar twinged and stared into the shadowed north corridor. His gaze did not waver and he only blinked when his eyes stung and his vision was getting blurry.

When his eyes opened, he saw the faintest outline of a pale face that would blend into the shadows if you stared to long.

Harry kept his gaze to the left of it and studied the hidden for of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Without paying much attention, Harry closed his book softly and moved it to his right hand.

A smirk twisted itself onto Riddle’s face and Harry’s left hand jerked itself to grab onto Draco’s.

Harry felt comfort in the warmth the small hand provided, and only nodded his head in Riddle’s directing when Draco questioned him.

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand tighter when he realised Draco wouldn’t be able to see the young Dark Lord.

Harry to a small breath in and breathed out, “We need to go.”

Draco hissed about wanting to know what was happening but Harry couldn’t even consider staying put.

With a small calculation of how things would play out with different methods, he let his book fall out of his hands and land on the thick carpet with a ‘thump’.

Immediately, Lucius and Narcissa’s whispering halted and Draco glared at him, but Harry refused to move his eyes from the hallway.

Riddle’s eyes glimmered before fading away with the rest of him as he walked back into the shadows.

Lucius stormed into the corridor and Draco looked up at him with wide eyes. Harry took his time dragging his gaze from the now empty hallway to the stony face of Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius asked them what they thought they were doing when Harry decided to answer.

Knowing Draco and Narcissa were listening Harry said, “We were walking the halls, when He heard you.”

Harry made sure to put an emphasis on “he” in hopes that Lucius would pick up on it.

Draco wasn’t facing Harry and Narcissa wasn’t watching, both assumed Harry was ratting Draco out, but Lucius was watching Harry’s face and saw green eyes dart down the north hallway.

Lucius pursed his lips but nodded.

“Very well. And I assume you two have been eavesdropping this whole time.”

At this, Harry bent down to pick up his book and shivered as his scar twinged again, but he did not look back down the corridor.

Shopping for school supplies went as well as one could expect. Despite Narcissa assuring the thirteen-year olds that they were safe from Sirius Black; she forbade them from wandering off on their own.

That meant instead of Harry stopping by Gringotts to get money, the Malfoy’s went with him and somewhat caused a scene when they asked to see Harry’s key.

“I beg your pardon?” Narcissa asked with ice frosting her voice.

“Mr. Potter does not have his key, because Mr. Potter does not need his key. As he is of financial age, he does not need a key nor does he need to identify himself to a common goblin such as yourself. Mr. Potter demands his vault handler to be present at once and provide him with a bank issued vault pouch.”

She stared down at the glaring creature and Harry was trying to sink into the ground.

After meeting with Bogdrad, the Potter’s Financial advisor, he was given a small navy pouch that was accented with strips of royal blue velvet.

It was his vault bag; it would allow him to get any amount of money directly from his vault. Essentially, it was a bank card but he didn’t voice this comparison to the adults or Draco.

Narcissa explained to him that vault keys were primarily for children and muggleborns. Her own vault bag was a muted green.

They bought their robes, Narcissa all but forcing him to buy formal robes for the winter holidays, as well as the necessary potions equipment for a third year.

By the fourth shop, Draco was, at this point, whining to go to the Quidditch Shop, and with a silent sigh from Lucius, the two went off to look at the new collection of exotic brooms. Exotic being French, Narcissa told him.

The two of them went to Flourish and Blotts to get his and Draco’s school books. Along the way, Harry decided to pick up a few extra for leisure time. At Narcissa’s recommendation, he purchased: Defensive Magical Theory – by Wilbert Slinkhard, Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts, Secrets of the Darkest Arts, and The Healer’s Helpmate.

Harry learned that, although Narcissa was not employed anywhere, she was a licensed healer and had enough credentials to be a private practitioner.

In turn, Harry expressed his desire for her to tutor him at some point, to which she responded positively.

The trip ended shortly after that. They were about to go to Florence’s Ice Cream when panic hit the streets.

Apparently, a ragged man was scene lurking about in the Leaky Cauldron and paranoia of Sirius Black broke out.

The Malfoy’s didn’t want to risk the possibility that it was him and quickly departed to Knocturn Alley. There, they made haste to Borgin and Burke’s and paid for the usage of their floo.

Narcissa went first, the Draco, and Lucius made Harry go before him.

At the manor, Narcissa ordered them to put their purchases in their school trunks, as tomorrow was when they would leave, before coming down to the dining room for dinner.

\----------

King’s Cross was as hectic as ever, only now there was panic as well. Instead of long and suffering goodbyes, there were parents pushing their kids onto the train with frantic glances for the escaped mass murderer.

Draco took his time saying goodbye to his parents, and his grasp on Harry’s sleeve forced the dark-haired boy to wait with him.

He saw a flash of black out of the corner of his eye and jerked his head to see a Black dog watching the Weasleys hurry their kids onto the train.

Harry allowed a small smile to grace his face at seeing his godfather, yet didn’t see Narcissa watching him with a calculated eye.

With a final goodbye, Harry and Draco boarded the train and sat in a compartment in the back with two other Slytherin’s, Parkinson and Greengrass Younger.

Harry ignored their attempts at conversation and pulled out his book on Practical Defensive Magic while he let Draco have his fun.

At some point, Draco and his friends had transitioned from Quidditch to Lockheart.

“That old phony won’t be back! There’s no chance!” Greengrass cried.

Parkinson sighed, “But he was pretty.”

Harry’s lips curled but he didn’t voice his opinion.

Draco had no problem voice his, “You’re barmy! That bloke was as fake as his tan, and his teeth?” the blonde scoffed.

Parkinson sneered, “Then who do you suppose will teach Defence?”

Draco shrugged. “Maybe Snape?”

Harry looked up and locked eyes with Greengrass before shaking his head and going back to his book.

“I doubt it.” Greengrass said. “I bet Professor Snape is still stuck with Potions. Why move him? I mean, he has a mastery in Potions.”

Draco looked away but conceded, “Alright, any guesses then? Harry?”

Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Dumbledore is bonkers. For all we know it could be a werewolf.”

Draco snickered, “As if that old coot would be daft enough! Can you imagine? A werewolf!”

The two girls laughed and Harry smirked to himself.

Their laughter stopped as the train jerked to a halt.

“What’s going on?” Parkinson asked, rubbing her arms as the air got colder.

Harry shut his book and glanced over Draco out the window, “Didn’t you hear? They think Sirius Black will attack the school so the Ministry sent Dementors to guard Hogwarts.”

He leaned away from Draco and tapped the glass on the train car’s door, maintaining an air of nonchalance while the Slytherin’s looked horrified. The glass was cold and he pulled the privacy shade down.

“They must’ve stopped the train from a search. Does anyone know the Patronus Charm?”

They stared at him with wide eyes as the window to the outside started frosting.

Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and gestures for the others to do the same, “If the Dementors come—and they will—concentrate on happiness and your happiest memory, on everything that happened and everything you felt and put those feelings into the Patronus Charm. Say, ‘expecto patronum’.”

The Slytherin’s did, and as Harry was about to begin speaking, the lock to their door started squeaking. He held in a breath as a shadow of a gnarled hand appeared on the shade of the window and slowly pulled back, sliding the door with it.

Despite having lived this before, Harry couldn’t stop his shaking. “Concentrate,” he whispered to the others.

The Dementor made its appearance and Greengrass whimpered while Draco gasped.

Harry looked eyes with the creature, but couldn’t bring himself to do anything.

No matter how many times he’s been alive, the first exposure to a Dementor was always the worse and felt a hundred yikes more powerful then what he remembered.

He felt Draco grab his shoulder, but Harry’s attention was captured by the Dementor that was slowly sucking him away. A distant cry of expecto patronum shook him out of it and he fell back against a shaking Draco.

Lupin peered his head in with a frown, “Is everyone alright? Here, eat this,” he handed Harry a bar of chocolate and told them to shut the door and lock it.

Harry looked at the girls and saw them leaning into each other and holding hands as they stared at him with wide eyes.

He gave a grim smile, “Chocolate?”

Draco stared at the door after a pale Parkinson locked it. 

“Who do you suppose that was?” His voice was shaking but no one commented on it. 

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, “Honestly, Draco, who do you think it was? That was the new defence professor.”

Draco’s cheeks flushed and his head jerked to the side, “How can you tell? For all we know, he’s some homeless bloke who wandered on.”

Greengrass took in a shuddering breath, “He seemed knowledgeable about defence, he knew the Patronum Charm, right?”

“Patronus,” Harry corrected lightly, staring at the door without seeing it. 

“Right,” Greengrass continued, swallowing thickly and switching her stare from Parkinson and Draco. “The only other time I’ve even heard of that was from Potter, here, five minutes ago. My father works closely with the wardens at Azkaban, and he’s never mentioned it before.”

Parkinson snorted, “Why would he tell you about the Patronus Charm? Even if it involved his work?”

Greengrass opened her mouth, but Harry saw her fight herself over what to say next. She settled on a scowl, “My point is still valid.”

Parkinson conceded to that and the train started up, though the ride was considerably less light-hearted than before. 

  
Harry day by Patil during the sorting ceremony and zoned out of Dumbledore’s caution speech as well as the warning of the dementors. 

The Ravenclaws were unsurprisingly invested in the gossip about the dark creatures. 

Harry focused on his book and tried to block out Patil’s attempts at getting him to notice her, until she finally worked up the nerve to speak to him. 

“I heard a dementor was on the train.”

All the chatter around them halted. The upper years looked down the table at them while the younger years looked up. 

Davies broke the silence, “Where’d you get that from?”

Patil shot a glance at Harry. “I heard Malfoy talking to some other Slytherin’s about it.”

The other claws caught her intentions and their stares turned to Harry. He gave a grimace to his book but looked up when someone cleared their throat. 

He looked between them with his brow raised, “What?”

Michael Corner scoffed, “Everyone knows you were on the train with Malfoy!”

“So?” Harry asked, looking back down at his book and turned the page. 

Corner grit his teeth, “So?! So, what happened?!”

Harry was content with ignoring him until Corner’s fists slammed into the wooden table, causing silverware to clank together and drinks to jostle. 

Harry has to hold back a flinch, but nevertheless closed his book with a heavy sigh and propped his head in his hand to stare at Corner lazily. 

“Be more specific.” Harry request, a smirk growing when he saw Corner’s nostrils flair. 

A girl with brown hair put a hand on his arm and hissed at him to calm down. 

Patil cleared her throat, “Did you see a dementor?”

Harry pursed his lips and picked at his nails but gave a silent sigh. “Yes.”

Whispers broke out around him and Corner started interrogating him. 

“Where was it? What’d it look like? How big was it? Was it scary—they guard Azkaban, they’d have to be scary, how scary were they? Did—ow!” 

The brown-haired girl elbowed him and Harry decided he liked her a tiny bit. 

He looked at Patil and Davies and internally groaned at their hopeful looks. 

“It got cold.” Everyone quieted down, except for Terry Boot. 

“Like in the movies?”

The other kids glared at him, thinking Harry would stop talking, but Harry just shook his head. “No, it wasn’t just chills. It literally got colder, the windows frosted and we could see our breath. That’s when you know they’re close.”

Harry furrowed his brows as he tried to remember exactly how it felt. “It— “ He looked down the table at the first and second years. 

The older kids understood and this year’s prefects told everyone they would talk about it in the common room, after obtaining Harry’s reluctant permission. 

The first years poured and the second years groaned, but none protested. Much. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Before dinner ended, a younger year ran up to Harry with flushed cheeks and a letter in his hand.

Harry sighed heavily and thanked the kid before putting his elbows on the dining table and opening the letter to read.

“Dear Harry,

I have an urgent matter that needs discussing immediately after dinner, if you’d be so kind as to indulge an old man. Rocky Roads are ahead.

-Albus Dumbledore”

Patil gasped quietly besides him, “Merlin, Potter!” She leaned in closer to him, and for once Harry was grateful. “Why is the Headmaster writing to you? Do you think it’s about the dementors?”

Harry pursed his lips and looked to the Slytherin table to see Draco and Pansy in a heated discussion with Bullstrode.

He clicked his tongue, “I doubt it.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before looking back at the letter. “I left my relatives this summer for,” he hesitated, “_personal_ reasons, and I think he’s upset about it.”

Her brows furrowed. “Personal reasons? Then why is he wanting to talk about it?”

Harry actually laughed out loud. “That’s the question isn’t it?”

She looked at him like he was crazy, but let it go and they finished dinner talking about books they read over the summer.

Harry dragged his feet down the corridor to Dumbledore’s office. No doubt he was going to drone on about the bullshit blood wards, and Harry did not have the patience for another seven years of that shit.

Harry heaved a sigh when he got to the gargoyle. “Rocky Road.”

The statue rumbled and began turning to reveal the hidden stairs. Harry rolled his eyes but made his way up.

Harry knocked on the double doors and they opened on their own. Or, Dumbledore opened them with magic.

Harry withheld another eyeroll and forced his face to remain pleasantly neutral, rather than the grimace he had been sporting.

“Harry, my boy, take a seat!” Dumbledore said jovially from behind his desk.

Harry looked around the room as he walked over to one of the two chairs in front of the desks before standing in-between them.

“Lemon sherbet?” The Headmaster asked, holding out the glass bowl almost filled.

Harry held in a grimace, “No, thank you sir. Did you need something…?”

Dumbledore gave an intentionally heavy sigh and set the bowl down before folding his hands in front of him. “My boy, I have a serious matter to discuss with you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and silently urged him to get on with it.

“It is my understanding that you left your relatives this summer.” He looked at Harry over the rims of his half-moon glasses.

Harry gave a half shoulder shrug and looked around the room again. “If this is about my summer residency, why isn’t my head of house here? I’m guessing he asked about it?”

Harry knew for a damned fact Flitwick did no such thing.

“No, Harry. I made this observation, and it was very reckless of you, my boy.”

Harry barked out a laugh, not trying to hard to hide it. “Sir, first of all, I ask that you refer to me as Mr. Potter, to keep the boundaries of teacher and student in place. Secondly, please refrain from calling me ‘your boy’. It seems highly inappropriate, regardless if you use this address for other students or not. Thirdly, sir, I don’t think it’s your place to call my actions reckless.”

Dumbledore stared at him with slightly wide eyes and the barest hint of a frown, “Harry, there is a killer on the loose trying to kill you—”

“It’s Mr. Potter and I would be much safer at a magic house than a muggle one where it could endanger my relatives.” Harry rushed out, focusing on remaining calm.

Dumbledore relaxed, “So this is about the safety of your relatives?”

Harry snorted, “Sir, I couldn’t care less about them and to be quite honest, it’s none of your concern.”

Dumbledore frowned fully, “Now, see here, Harry—”

“Mr. Potter!” Harry interjected.

“_Harry_, as your magical guardian, it is my responsibility to ensure you are safe! You running off somewhere I can’t find you is dangerous!”

Harry had to fight to keep a smirk off his face.

“Fine, sir. How many other students are you magical guardians of?” Harry changed his tone to questioning innocence and Dumbledore deflated.

“Just you, my boy.”

Harry grit his teeth. “If that’s all, sir. I have an early day tomorrow of studying.”

Dumbledore sighed tiredly, “I think you’re quite right, my boy. We can continue this discussion at a later time.”

Harry sucked on his cheeks as he left the office and resolved to learn about the duties of a magical guardian the next day.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  
Later in the common room, those who wanted to hear Harry’s story were seated around the fire place, with Harry on one of the arm chairs, sitting sideways with his legs hanging off the armrest and his back towards the fire as everyone waited for the first year’s curfew. 

When the last of the young ones went to their dorms, Harry scoffed before closing his book. 

“Everything got cold. Cold enough to see your breath.”

“Yeah, we know that, Potter!”

Harry turned an icy stare to a chubbier boy. “If you don’t want to hear it, you can leave.”

Davies smacked the boy on the back of his head, “Hush it, Belby!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “The reason I brought this up,” he glared at Belby, “again,” he emphasised, “is because that’s how you’ll know they’re around. Obviously, it won’t help when winter comes but until then, watch for the frost and your breath.”

Harry took in a deep breath and couldn’t hold back a shiver, “Then—everything got darker.”

A blonde girl raised her hand and Harry raised a brow at her. She flushed but didn’t back down. 

“Yes?” Harry asked. 

“I read about dementors; I know they can affect the temperature but I didn’t see anything about lights?”

Harry pursed his lips and thought about his next words carefully. “I—“ he winced but continued, “I’ve seen lights flicker when they’re around. It might not—actually I know it doesn’t always happen. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

He looked at her and she nodded, seeming satisfied. 

“They—I’m sure a few of you have read about them?”

After looking around the room, and receiving nods from most of the upper years, he nodded back and took a deep breath in. 

“What you’ve read doesn’t cover a fraction of how it really feels. You go into an immediate depression and everything just seems hopeless. It’s—“ he shuddered and finished with a whisper. “It’s horrible.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, simply basking in the warmth. 

He missed everyone looking at each other and nodding, as if speaking telepathically. 

When Harry didn’t hear anything, he spoke up, “That’s all I’m telling you. Unless you want to hear how it feels for them to suck out your literal soul. Oh,” he sat up and blinked his eyes open slowly, “chocolate helps.” 

With that, he laid back down and rested his hands over his stomach as people slowly started shuffling about. 

He heard someone dangerously close to him and peaked open his eyes to see long, white blonde hair. 

His lips quirked up. 

“Do I know you?”

The girl turned and Harry saw glazed baby blue eyes with a dreamy smile, “It’s been a while, Harry.”

Harry bit his lip to try and hold in his grin, “What are you doing down here? Second years weren’t meant to hear that.”

She hummed and leaned against his chair as she sat cross crossed on the ground. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you last year.”

She waved her hand and leaned her head back with her eyes closed like Harry had done earlier. 

No matter how many lives Harry lives, or what house he was sorted in or what he did different, Luna always seemed to remember him. He could talk to her about past lives and she would need no context. 

“Tell your dad I want a subscription.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, not opening them even when Luna spoke. 

“Already done. It’ll be here Monday.”

Harry felt a smile work its way onto his lips no matter what he did to get it off. 

Merlin, he hadn’t realised how nice it was to have Luna. 

  
Draco did not like Luna. 

Harry could see it every time the two were around each other. 

Harry has been walking down the hall with Luna, smiling at her story of some Thurndike not listening to her warning about the Billywig in the bush. 

She had a far-off look when she told him, but a small smile was seen on her face as well. 

“Some people,” Harry murmured with a light feeling in his chest. 

“Harry,” Draco called out. 

Harry let the smile slip off his face going back to neutral those his eyes warmed at seeing Draco. 

“Draco, the is Luna.”

Draco looked her up and down with a scowl. 

“Luna? Luna who?”

“Luna Lovegood,” she replied in a small, but light voice. 

Draco gave a tight smile and Harry internally rolled his eyes. This boy could be so jealous. 

Luna blinked at the other blonde before walking away without saying goodbye. 

Draco scoffed, “How rude.”

Harry shrugged, “No, that’s how she is. Probably going to the kitchens to talk to the house elves or going to feed the Thestrals.”

“The what?” Draco asked. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Never mind. I’m going to the library.”

“What a coincidence, me too!”

Harry snorted at the lie but didn’t call Draco out on it. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When the two got to the library, Harry picked an empty table in a corner hidden by the book shelves and set his bag down.

He was about to go search for books on guardians, magical and muggle, but Draco stopped him with a slight cough.

Draco’s cheeks were slightly pink, “Do you need help with anything?”

Harry was about to roll his eyes, but realised this could be beneficial. “Yes, actually. Do you know what a magical guardian is?”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed together but he nodded nonetheless.

Harry gave a small smile, “Great, do me a favour and make a list of who they are and what they do and what their responsibilities are.”

Harry spun on his heel and left before Draco could protest or ask why.

Once he found the isle dedicated to the Ministry and Law concerns, he scanned the titles for anything that could be specific to guardians.

_An Introduction to Magical Custody _was just what he’d been looking for. It was likely made for muggle-borns, but he needed the refresher.

In Life 5 he’d found out Dumbledore was he magical guardian, and hadn’t actively searched what that meant until Life 7. Now, he had gotten the information earlier than his previous lives so it didn’t look suspicious that he knew who his magical guardian was.

Draco would be the perfect alibi attesting to the fact that he looked everything up and didn’t just pull the information out of his ass.

He went back to the table where Draco had written a short list and sat next to the blond.

Harry folded his arms and leaned in closer, “Whatcha got?”

Draco cleared his throat and moved the paper to sit more in the middle. “My magical guardians are my parents. It’s basically the job of a caretaker; make sure you’re safe, healthy, happy.”

Harry hummed and scanned the list. “Magical guardians arrange check-ups and physicals?”

Draco nodded from beside him, “Yea, they can vary from a yearly visit to every six months.”

Harry reread the words and pressed his thumb to his mouth as his mind started thinking through a plan.

“Why are you asking about this now?” Draco questioned, a little hesitant.

Harry ducked his head to smile, _this was too perfect_, “I got called to Dumbledore’s office last night. He told me he was upset that I left my relative’s over the summer and that he was my magical guardian so it was his business.”

Draco stiffened. “He _what?!”_

Harry looked at him with slightly wide eyes. He was a little surprise at the outrage in Draco’s tone.

“What?” Harry whispered, reminding Draco that they _were_ in a library.

Draco looked around and leaned closer to Harry, “Harry, first off, Dumbledore shouldn’t be allowed to be your guardian because you attend a place of his work and you aren’t his child. Secondly, you’ve clearly been neglected as a best case scenario and abused as the worst!”

Despite the fact that Draco had spoken quietly, Harry jerked his head to look around to see if anyone heard them as his shoulders tensed. “I wasn’t _abused_, Draco.”

Draco snorted humourlessly, “Yea, and I’m not a true blond. Harry, they treated you horribly and it was under Dumbledore’s care!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Draco, you’re overexaggerating and isn’t Dumbledore, like, untouchable?”

Draco shook his head purposefully and looked Harry in the eye, “Children are precious in the magical world. Even adults under 25 are seen as priceless. Dumbledore was given his position because it was believed that he would put the well-being of children above everything else.”

Harry sat back as he processed this.

“You could take some serious legal action against him.”

Harry bit his lip, “Not now. I will,” he rushed out when he saw Draco frown, “I’m not ready yet. I’ll talk to your parents over Yule.”

Draco sighed but relented.

They spent the rest of their time in the library in silence.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  
The first half of the year was about the same as every third year in Harry’s precious lives. 

Lupin didn't try to reach out to him. In his first few lives, Harry was hurt because he had grown accustom to the man Lupin was in Life 1. He had gotten used to the man with small smiles and helpful advice. But it was always the same; he kept his distance from Harry as if they had never met.

Harry was more okay with it now than the earlier times.

The primary difference was the letters he got from the Malfoy’s. The first time he got a letter, he was on the edge of a panic attack. 

He held the beige envelope in his hand, the wax Malfoy seal glaring at him. It was silver and elegant and could be nothing good. 

Luna wasn’t at breakfast, probably looking for her missing uniform, and Harry did not want to ask Patil or Davies. 

He kept it on the table throughout breakfast, periodically looking at the Slytherin table to make sure Draco hadn’t left yet. 

When it was nearing 9:30, he saw Draco get up with Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle following him. 

Harry took a last gulp of pumpkin juice before grabbing his bag and the letter, slinging his bag strap over his shoulder and holding the letter in his free hand, making sure his robe covered it. 

He stalked towards Draco and waited until he was out of the Great Hall before talking. 

“Oi, Malfoy!”

The group stopped and Draco turned with a scowl, but when he saw Harry it dropped to a smile before dropping again in confusion. 

“We need to talk.” Harry took a glance at the Slytherin group. “Alone.”

Draco shooed the others off and the two boys walked outside. 

Harry held up the letter with a slightly shaking hand, “What the hell is this? Have I done something wrong?”

Draco looked at him like he saw he was a three headed dog. “No...?”

“Then what the hell is this—why is your—why are your parents writing me?”

Draco quirked an eyebrow, “To see how you’re doing?” He phrased it as if he were talking to a child and Harry scoffed. 

“Oh, sure. As if they’d care.”

He pulled out his wand and used it to slice the envelope open without a specific spell and unfolded the papers inside. 

Harry took a deep breath and glanced at Draco before reading. 

“‘Harry, how are—you doing?’”

Harry paused and flipped through the pages. “These are just...letters?”

He heard Draco sigh but didn’t take his stare away from the letters. 

“Harry, my parents hold _some_ affection for you. You know that right?”

Harry swallowed thickly, “But why? I mean I don’t—I haven’t done anything. I didn’t do anything for them, I don’t deserve—“

Draco cut him off by placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, you’re important to me, which makes you important to them.”

Harry’s hands were still shaking and his eyes kept darting over the words. “But—But —“

“C’mon, surely you’ve gotten letters before?” Draco asked with a smirk. 

Harry scoffed, “Of course. You send me letters over the holidays and Davies sent me some.” 

Harry took a glance at Draco and saw a blank stare directed at him. Harry felt his insides jolt but kept his outwards appearance calm. “You okay?”

Draco blinked. “You’ve received letters from other people though, right?”

Harry shrugged, “I mean, Patil sends one every Christmas and so does Flitwick. Beyond that, no not really.”

Draco clenched his jaw but gave a tight smile that had Harry raising an eyebrow. “You should read it, and send a reply. They’ll love to hear from you. I have to go now.”

Harry watched him leave; furrowed brows and wide eyes. He slowly turned his eyes to his letter and read. 

“Harry,

How are you doing? Have you gotten your schedule? Draco tells me that he has Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors, and is not pleased. What are your courses this semester?

The manor is always quieter when Draco leaves, but more so now that he’s had someone to talk to over the summer holiday. 

Along with this letter, please find another letter from Lucius. Please don’t tell Draco, he rarely gets letters from his father and would be most jealous if he found out you had gotten one. 

Write back at your convenience. 

Signed,  
Lady Malfoy”

Harry kept tracking his eyes over the letter and Narcissa’s signature. When he realised he’d been staring for too long, he folded it gently along the previous indents and put it in his bag carefully. Then he read Lucius’s, which wasn’t actually from Lucius. 

“Mr. Potter,

It has come to my attention that you have been in Malfoy Manor all summer, and we have not been introduced since our last meeting in the Chamber. 

Rest assured, that will be rectified upon your next visit; you will not be escaping from me a third time. 

Though, I do welcome for you to try. I enjoy seeing your brilliance in action. I must admit how you got Lucius’s attention was nothing short of genius. 

I will get you alone. We have much to discuss. 

Until then,  
T. M. R.”

Harry felt a shiver run up his spine, but not out of fear. Rather, it was anticipation. He felt an increasing horror grow in him at the realisation that he was looking forward to his encounter with Riddle. 

He looked around him with a blank stare, and after making sure no one was watching, he burned Riddle’s letter and headed towards the Ravenclaw tower to write a response to Narcissa and a fake one to Lucius.

  
Harry stayed at the back of the class for Care of Magical Creatures. Ravenclaws were mixed with Hufflepuffs and he found a haven with Terry Boot and Susan Bones. 

They watched Hagrid introduce Buckbeak and whispered amongst themselves. 

“He doesn’t expect us to go near that thing, right?” Terry asked, looking at the hippogriff with disdain. 

Bones rolled her eyes, “Of course not. A hippogriff is classified as XXX.”

“Which means it should provide no trouble for the average, competent wizard,” Harry added. 

Susan glanced at him, “Average wizard. We’re children, would consider us as the ‘average wizard’?” 

Harry hummed in response and look towards the creature, all three of them watching with pity as Cho Chang was chosen to initiate contact. 

“You’re right,” Harry conceded. 

Terry gaped at him and Bones rolled her eyes at Terry. 

“Don’t look so shocked, it’s not as if he’s never been wrong.” Bones said with a huff. Harry smirked at Terry for a moment before turning back to watch Chang successfully touch Buckbeak. 

Harry shifted his weight, "Maybe something should be done about the care of the school. OR, lack thereof."

Terry reared his head back, "What are you _talking_ about!? It's great here!"

Harry gave him a flat look, "Remember in first year when we were warned away from the third floor or else we would-what was it?-oh, yeah, die a most painful death."

Terry pursed his lips, "I'm sure that was an exaggeration."

Harry raised an eyebrow and turned more towards him, "What about the three headed dog?"

Terry looked beyond confused, "The _what?"_

"The three headed dog. Named _Fluffy_."

Terry scoffed, "You're bullshitting me, Potter. No way would Dumbledore allow it."

It was Harry's turn to scoff. "Right, don't believe me. Okay, what about the lack of teachers? In the muggle world-"

Terry flushed, "I know what it's like in the muggle world-"

Bones, who Harry had forgotten about for a minute, interrupted, "I don't."

The two boys turned to her. "What?" Terry asked.

She shrugged, "I don't know what the muggle world is like. What were you going to say, Harry?"

Harry blew out a breath and relaxed slightly. "In the muggle world, there is a teacher for every subject, like here at Hogwarts. But-!" He cut off whatever Terry was going to say and held up a hand, levelling a look at Bones. "There is also a teacher for every grade level, for example. Instead of Snape for Potions, he would teach Seventh Year Potions."

Susan nodded but Terry crossed his arms, "Okay, but there a lot less magical kids than muggle. My primary school was packed."

Harry tilted his head, "That's a good point. So, instead of Snape teaching all Potions, he could teach the upper levels. That way, maybe he wouldn't be so strict on the younger years. Especially the muggleborns."

Susan made a noise of agreement, "That's a good point! He doesn't teach us what the ingredients look like, but gets mad when someone doesn't know it-!"

"Even if it's a muggleborn with no prior experience." Harry finished. "Not to mention," he added before he could lose their attention, "Some of the teachers are Heads of Houses. Like Snape, again. He technically has two jobs, three if you count that he probably brews potions for the hospital wing. He's probably overworked."

Terry pursed his lips but didn't disagree and Susan furrowed her brows in thought. They tuned back in to the lesson when Hagrid hefted Chang onto the Hippogriff and sent her flying.

Susan scowled and Terry shook his head, but Harry had to hide a smirk. Hogwarts had always been a safe place. Maybe now it could actually be _safe_.

When he was walking back to the castle, he passed Draco and grabbed the blond boy’s arm. “Don’t harass the creature.”

There. That was the only warning Malfoy would be getting out of him. Harry didn’t wait for a reply as he went to Ravenclaw tower. 

  
Harry got his next letter that Saturday. Or, letters. 

Again, it was Narcissa and Lucius, though Lucius’s was actually Riddle’s. 

Narcissa’s was along the same as last weeks, asking about friends and how his first week back to school was. She also mentioned how she missed his company at breakfast as well as his stimulating conversations. 

Harry has to put the letter down; he was flushing so much. 

Riddle’s letter had him flushing for a different reason. 

“Harry,

I was ever so hurt that you did not reply to my letter, yet sent Lucius one. Imagine my shock when I expected the letter addressed to him to actually be for me, when in actuality it was for him. Especially considering he did not write you a letter. 

No matter, I expect this matter will be corrected?

What are your plans for Yule? I will be at Malfoy manor, and would be delighted by your attendance. Perhaps you could spare me a dance?

I’d love to talk with you _in_ _person_. 

Write me back,  
T. M. R.”

Originally, Harry wasn’t going to write back to Riddle. He was going to send Narcissa a response and send Lucius a bullshit one about his classes, but he didn’t want Riddle’s anger to be taken out on Lucius, so he decided a response would be necessary. 

His letter to Narcissa conveyed the same sentiment as hers, how he would enjoy a lengthy discussion over the books she suggested when he returned. 

His letter, although it was more of a note, to Riddle was a different matter. 

“T. M. R.,

Typically, when someone doesn’t get a letter, it is implied that the sender doesn’t _want _them to get a letter. 

I will be sure to avoid Malfoy manor during Yule; I appreciate your advice on the matter. 

Leave me alone,  
Harry Potter”

Harry again addressed his note to Lucius, and didn’t think about it until his next letter, which came on Monday. 

“Harry,

Oh dear, it seems somehow my intentions were lost in translation. I was not asking you to Malfoy manor, that was a demand. I assure you, if you do not comply, the repercussions will be severe. 

Do tell me about your classes, is Professor Binns still teaching? What is your favourite class? Have you made any friends?

I await your response,  
T. M. R.”

Harry growled at the letter. Not even Narcissa had gotten back to him this quickly. 

“T. M. R.,

You don’t own me. If I don’t wish to go to Malfoy manor for Yule, then I will not be at Malfoy manor for the Yule holidays. Accept the defeat. 

My personal life is none of your business, so kindly stay out of it. 

Leave me alone,  
Harry Potter 

  1. S. Tell Lucius to stop sending your letters under his name, or else I will simply burn them without reading them.”

The next letter he got from Narcissa made his heart flutter and his teeth clench. 

“Harry,

I’m so glad to hear your classes are going well. Draco has been struggling in a few, but nothing a Malfoy cannot handle. 

Have you any plans for the Yuletide holidays? As always, you are invited here, but I would be especially grateful if you attended so you could help me keep Draco in line. 

He looks up to you, you know. It would be very beneficial if you would help keep him inline during our Yule Ball which, again, you are invited to. 

Hoping you are well,  
Lady Malfoy”

Harry leaned against his headboard with a huff. On the one hand, he didn’t want to see Riddle. On the other, he just didn’t want to go. On the third, metaphorical hand, he didn’t want to disappoint Narcissa. Her last letter came with sweets, and though that wasn’t why he held some affection for her, it was because she had nothing to gain by it. 

He would’ve gone had she simply asked, she sent him the sweets because she sent Draco the sweets; because she cared. 

With that in mind, he wrote Narcissa his agreement to go, and a note to “Lucius”. 

“T. M. R.,

I’m not going for you.”

**\-------**

Harry put on his dress robes. Much like the dress robes for the Yule Ball in his first life fourth year, these were the nicest average ones a wizard could get. 

It was similar to a tux, but instead of pants it was like a black skirt—which reminded him, he needed to get some skirts. He’d tried them out six lives ago and found them to be quite comfortable. 

He was studying himself in the mirror when Draco came in. 

“Merlin, Harry, could those robes be any more festive?” He joked. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Draco, you look like Salazar Slytherin himself puked green fabric, and you decided to put it on.”

Draco flushed, but pretended he didn’t. He sniffed and turned his head to the side. “At least one of us has colour. You look as though someone’s died!”

Harry scowled, “Yeah, me.”

Draco chuckled and hopped on Harry’s bed. “I don’t see why you’re so upset about this. It’s a great way to meet people—“

“I hate people.”

“—and you’ll get to show off your dancing skills—“

“I hate dancing.”

Draco stopped talking and stared at him with a face of horror. “Harry! Do you even know how to dance!?”

Harry scowled but felt mischief rise in him. “Of course. I’m particularly well-versed in disco and the chicken dance.”

Draco put his hands to his face and looked like he was about to faint. “Those—Those are muggle dances, aren’t they! You can’t do a muggle dance here! It’s the Malfoy Yule’s Ball! We can’t—“

Harry snickered, “Calm down, Draco. I’m only joking, I know how to waltz and dance elegantly, like a proper lady.”

He spoke the last part in a higher pitch and a posh accent and Draco rolled his eyes. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

Harry smirked and straightened his robes for a final time before turning to Draco with his arm out and a smirk on his face, “Shall we?”

Draco flushed and smacked his arm away, leading them down the hall and the stairs before stopping at the entrance hall. Draco turned to him, “Ok, shoulders up, back straight, head high—“

Draco paused as his icy grey eyes met Harry’s green. Harry wanted to look away, but felt like this was an important moment, so he held still. 

Draco put a pale hand against his cheek and Harry tensed. He pulled his head back before forcing himself to stop, and he stared at Draco with wide, incredulous eyes. 

Draco’s own eyes were soft and he had a slight smile on his face, “You’ll be fine.”

Then Draco faced the ballroom doors and turned to a beet red Harry with a smirk, “Come in, Potter. Mum does that to me before every big event. Since you weren’t ready when the guests started arriving, I figured I’d handle it for her.”

Harry glared at him but couldn’t calm down the heat in his cheeks. He cast a nonverbal spell to help him cool down and marched next to the blonde, “Can we go already? The sooner were in there is the sooner I can leave.”

Draco straightened his poster and all mirth slipped off of his face to indifferent politeness, and Harry let himself slip into indifference altogether. 

The two walked in to the large ballroom, noticed by a few who weren’t dancing. 

Draco turned his head slightly, “Pansy and Astoria will be here. As will a couple other kids from our school. You know Susan Bones?” He didn’t wait for Harry to answer, “Her aunt works for the ministry, so she might be here.”

Harry nodded and gave a tight smile at an older couple that nodded to him. 

Harry followed Draco closely behind, “Don’t leave me.”

Draco touched Harry’s elbow and made it look as though he was telling him about a guest and whispered, “Of course I can’t promise that, but I’ll do my best.”

Harry smiled slightly and nodded before dropping it when Lucius approached them. 

“Draco, Mr. Potter, how nice of you to join us.”

Draco tensed but showed no other outward changes. Harry looked Lucius in his eyes, silently urging him to get to the point. 

“Draco, your mother wants you to talk with her to Lady Greengrass. I’ll keep Mr. Potter company.”

Draco looked between the two and hesitated, but when his father angled his head at him, Draco looked at Harry with a face meant to apologise without words, and turned to find his mother. 

Harry walked towards the buffet against the west wall. 

“Mr. Potter,” Lucius called lightly. 

Harry ignored him and poured himself a glass of what could’ve been wine or punch. 

Harry turned and took a sip as he stared at Lucius’s face. 

He saw the older man wince and held back a whimper as he realised it was wine. Very aged wine. 

Harry swallowed thickly and held back a grimace. “Yes, Lord Malfoy?”

Lucius didn’t hide his disdain well, and because of that Harry took another drink. “I have a guest wishing to speak to you in my office.”

Harry hummed as if he didn’t know who it was. “Oh? I can’t imagine who.”

Lucius’s nostrils flared and Harry hid his smile with another drink. 

“I believe you know who, Mr. Potter. You have been corresponding letters with him.”

Harry was starting to feel warm and decided to not use pleasantries. “Ah, yes. Tell your guest to politely fuck off.”

He heard a gasp nearby and Lucius’s eyes widened fractionally. 

Harry smirked, “My apologies, tell him I am otherwise occupied at the moment. I believe I owe Parkinson a dance.”

He finished his glass with a final gulp and made his way to where the students are. 

“Potter?” Not Jr. spoke, gaining the attention of the other mingling students. 

Harry gave a wider smile than he meant and nodded his head to the brunette. 

“Ms. Parkinson,” Harry purred. 

Pansy looked at the other kids and turned her eyes to Harry, “Me?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but stood next to her and offered his hand. “May I have this dance?”

She regained her composure and tilted her head up, “I’d be delighted.”

They ignored the other students and he escorted her to the dance floor. 

He put his hand on her waist and she put hers on his shoulder. With their free hands clasped, they began to waltz. 

She leaned in close. “So, what is it you really want, Potter?”

He smiled wryly, “Can a boy not dance with his friend?”

She smirked back, “Of course. Though I’d say you don’t call us friends.”

Harry didn’t answer and she sighed. 

“What are we doing,” she asked, taking a different approach. 

“Avoiding.” He answered shortly, looking around the room as the spun around. 

She hummed understandingly, “And who’s the unlucky lady we’re avoiding?”

Harry kept his jaw locked but felt amusement at her own. “Not a lady.”

Her eyebrow raised and Harry knew she had become more interested. “Oh?”

He felt chills on his neck and held her hand tighter. She took in stride. “Do you see him?” Was breathes into his ear. 

He slightly shook his head, “No, but he’s here.”

She gave a small chuckle, “Harry Potter, have you been drinking?”

He leaned away from her so he could look at her with a smirk. He winked but did not answer verbally. 

She laughed a laugh that Harry never heard at Hogwarts. This one was high pitched and restrained, and made Harry think of all the other pureblood women. The Hogwarts’s laugh was free and joyful. 

Looking at the girl in front of him, who was so young and innocent, Harry decided he liked the Hogwarts laugh better. 

They went around, intermingling with other “couples” as they danced, and when the song ended, Harry bowed deeply and Pansy curtsied with a small smirk. 

He took her hand and escorted her back to her table. 

“Fine dancing, Harry.” Pansy said, drinking her water with a pointed look. 

“I’ll say! Where’d you learn to do that?” Not Jr. asked with a slight inflection. 

Harry smirked, “I’m only as good as my partner. See you later, Pansy.”

Pansy gaped like a fish and Nott Jr. looked between the two with wide eyes. 

Before he could fully enjoy the moment, he felt chills prick his neck and a presence against his back. 

“May I have the next dance?” Was purred into his ear and Harry shivered. 

“Riddle.” Harry greeted, glaring at Pansy who looked between the two with wide eyes. 

“Actually, sir, Harry and I were about to have another round,” Pansy made to stand up and Harry felt warmth grow inside him. 

He had his hand out for her, but a cool hand gripped his own from behind, squeezing his fingers close together and rubbing the back of his hand with their own thumb. 

Harry grit his teeth, and Pansy looked at him with slightly wide eyes. He could see that she had lost her confidence, but her face showed slight shock and dismay at being denied. If Harry hadn’t been around purebloods during so many of his lives, he would’ve believed that she was more upset than confused at the display. 

Unfortunately, if he could see her hesitance, then so could the warm body behind him. 

He could feel Tom Riddle’s front pressed against his back, and he gave a flat look to Pansy. 

“Don’t worry about it, Pansy. We’ll dance again later.” He sucked in a breath and turned around, looking up and staring at the chiselled face of Tom Riddle. 

At this point, Harry had seen all of the personifications of Voldemort’s horcruxes, and up until the diadem, Tom Riddle retained most of his good looks. 

With the diary, there was no change. It was the embodiment of Tom Riddle in his fifth year; short, curly dark hair that covered most of his forehead, sharp cheek bones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and dark brown eyes that glimmered with mirth and knowledge. 

The ring was very similar. His facial features were ultimately the same, other than the shadows under his eyes and how his eyes were a shade lighter than before. He might’ve gotten taller, but Harry was usually too short during the first few meetings to notice a difference. 

The cup was when the dark arts started showing. His eyes had taken on their trademark red; his cheeks had begun to hollow, making you wonder if he was a high noble or a sickly person. In the same sense, his skin started losing its colour, adding to his supernatural aura. Before the cup, he maintained a pale princely appearance. After the cup, he had gained a whiter complexion, adding to the illusion that he was a high-born pureblood. 

The locket was where most of the last of his humanity was. His hair was longer, his cheek bones were sharper, he was most definitely taller and thinner; but instead of seeming regal, he seems sick. 

Ravenclaw’s diadem was where the last of his human side appeared. At this point, Riddle had become gaunt and so pale, he seemed like a vampire. This was when Harry began to grow truly weary of his appearance; his red eyes were darker; his cheeks were hollow and reminded Harry of Aunt Petunia; his hair was long and stringy. Once it had been thick and curly. After the diadem, it lost its life and hung limply in a ponytail that Lucius often wore, low but tight without a strand out of place. 

Beyond that, he was typically insane, snake-faced Voldemort. 

Looking at Tom Riddle now, Harry felt his face heat up at seeing Tom Riddle so human. 

Riddle gave him a knowing smirk and Harry pursed his lip and raised an eyebrow in response. 

Riddle turned him around, not letting go of his hand until Riddle could grab Harry’s arm, and when he did, he began pulling Harry to the dance floor. 

Harry looked around and spotted Lucius looking down his nose at him. Harry scratched the side of his face with his middle finger, making sure Lucius saw it, but not checking if the blonde got the message. 

Riddle stopped near the middle of the ballroom and turned on his heal to face Harry, looking down at him with a self-satisfied smirk. 

Harry scowled and turned his head, snapping Riddle with a growl when he felt the older “teen’s” hand being placed on his waist. 

“Who said _you_ would be leading.” Harry snapped. 

The hand squeezed in warning, and though Riddle’s face never changed, Harry relented and placed his hand on Riddle’s shoulder as a new song began. 

Riddle practically purred. “I’m not one to follow.”

Harry faked a laugh and turned his head when Riddle pulled him closer. Harry was content with spending their dance ignoring the other boy and examining the other guests, but found himself tensing and flushing as Riddle talked into his ear. 

“You know, it’s considered rude when you don’t look at your partner.”

Harry shivered when Riddle began speaking but muttered a “good” when he had finished. 

Riddle chuckled and Harry felt his shoulders relaxing without his permission. He turned his head slightly and looked at Riddle out of the corner of his eye. 

It really was a privilege to see the future Lord Voldemort so young and at his peak potential. 

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off the sharp curve of Riddle’s jaw as the older boy spoke. 

“I must confess, I was irritated at your lack of participation in my letter conversations, but I now see you were saving it for an in-person discussion.” Harry snorted. 

“Oh, yes, that _must_ be why I keep telling you to piss off.” Harry said in an over exaggerated posh accent. 

Riddle seemed more amused than annoyed, which put Harry off because it was the opposite of what he’d been trying to do. 

Riddle hummed in thought, “I figured,” he said, going along with Harry’s sarcasm. His voice was low but not deep; it wasn’t deep like Hagrid’s—and nowhere near as gruff. Riddle’s voice was like a soft melody. It was warm in Harry’s ear and made him want to lean into the taller boy and listen to him talk about anything. 

Harry regretted downing his wine. 

“You’re friends with Parkinson?” Riddle asked, twisting them to the left and side stepping another dancer. 

Harry internally shook his head and made a promise to himself not to get distracted; even if he was feeling pleasantly warm by the alcohol and Riddle’s presence. 

He sighed before answering, “I don’t really do friends, although I would consider Draco as close to a friend as I’ll ever have.”

Riddle raised his eyebrows lightly, prompting Harry to elaborate without speaking. 

Harry noticed, and knew this was a psychological tactic, he’d studied being the wizard equivalent of a psychologist, and was thankful for that knowledge now. He gave a smile that was as fake as it was sarcastic, and decided not to give any context. 

Riddle took it in stride, much to Harry’s disappointment. 

“And Draco, how is he?”

Harry felt his hands tighten, which was unfortunate as it made him hold Riddle tighter. _Great Merlin, since when was Riddle so firm?_

Harry looked at Riddle through narrowed eyes. “He isn’t your concern.”

Riddle chuckled and squeezed Harry’s waist in return, forcing Harry to take an unintentional step forward.

Riddle’s smile was all teeth. “No, I suppose you’re right. You however, are _mine_ to worry about.”

Harry scowled, but was used to this type of behaviour from a lot of people. 

“Nothing to worry about, Riddle. I’m completely harmless.”

Riddle made a noise, “Oh?”

The conversation paused as Riddle’s hand that was holding Harry’s shifted to the shorter boy’s hip and lifted him in a spin that was timed with everyone else’s. 

Riddle kept both hands on Harry’s waist after that, and Harry’s hand stayed on Riddle’s shoulder. 

Riddle leaned down to Harry’s ear. “And how do you know who I am?”

Harry shuddered at the warm breath against his ear, and sucked in a short breath when he felt Riddle’s mouth brush his ear. 

Harry felt like the temperature was raised a hundred degrees. 

“I already told you,” Harry breathes out, looking up at Riddle and watching the dark eyes that trailed over his face. “I have—dreams. They—sometimes they—“ Harry cut himself off in a way that was meant to make himself seem embarrassed. 

“It’s stupid,” he muttered, looking down and away from Riddle’s face. 

Riddle ducked his head and managed to catch Harry’s eye, “Tell me.”

So, Harry told him enough. 

“I dreamt about you, the diary. I had a dream that you went to the girl’s lavatory and went in through the sinks, opening the chamber and speaking to the basilisk. At the time, I thought it was a typical dream. A pretty boy fighting a giant snake. It’s not normal, but dreams never are. And then—“

Harry stopped, thinking over how he should play the next part. 

“Yes?” Riddle asked, concealing his eagerness from the highly trained eye. Of course, Harry saw right through that and couldn’t hide his smile at it. 

“I was seeing things through your eyes—_I _was opening the sinks and writing in a diary. I was—I was me, but I wasn’t. I didn’t look like me, and the diary didn’t have my name on it but . . .,” Harry trailed off with a sigh and finally looked at Riddle, internally please to see the contemplated expression on the older boys face. 

Riddle’s eyebrows were furrowed and his forehead was creased, he had a small frown on his face that Harry bet he didn’t know was there. 

“It freaked me out, to be honest. Dreaming all of this, then having it happen? Of course, I don’t want anything to do with you. My life’s weird enough as it is.” Harry muttered the last part as the song ended. 

They stood still for a few moments. Harry was letting Riddle process, and Riddle was going over what Harry said. 

Harry felt eyes on his back and turned his head to see Draco staring. 

Harry felt his stomach drop but turned to Riddle with a tight smile. “As fun as this was, I’m needed elsewhere. As you can see, I’d prefer to be left alone. Please respect my wishes.” 

Harry stepped back, Riddle’s arms straightening out, but not yet letting go. 

Harry gently took his hands from his waist and let them go by Riddle’s side before going off to tell Draco he was turning in for the night. 

If everything went according to plan, Riddle would be confused and intrigued for maybe a week before dismissing it as Harry hearing the whispers and twisting them into a story, maybe even a flat out lie to seem important, and leaving him alone to move onto his next target. 

Unfortunately, when Riddle has his mind set on something, he didn’t often move on before he had figured out every little puzzle and put the pieces together to see the big picture. 

One thing was for certain. 

Harry would not be drinking again until he was at least sixteen. Or of course, he was alone.

**\-----------**

Harry cursed Tom Riddle as he continually received letters from the Slytherin throughout the rest of the winter holidays. 

Harry would find them on his bed at different days and times, which only served to creep Harry out at the thought of Riddle being in his room and going through his things. 

Harry spent a few hours putting up protection wards and charms to keep prying eyes out; immune only to the spells were himself and the house elves under strict orders to not let anyone touch his things without asking Harry first. 

Added to that, Harry added a ward to the door of his room that alerted him when someone entered. 

Harry has been in the library with Draco, though the two were playing chess rather than reading, when his wand buzzed and grew warm as a sign of an intruder. 

Draco was hunched over, looking at the chess board to decide where to go next, and looked up at Harry before turning his gaze to Harry’s wand. 

“What’s that?”

Harry held his wand and squeezed it twice, deactivating the alert. 

“It’s my wand.”

Draco huffed and rolled his eyes, fighting off a smirk. “Yes, obviously but why was it doing that—the vibrating?”

Harry gave him a smirk. 

“Dobby,” Harry called, instead of answering. 

Dobby popped into the library with wide eyes and his hands clasped together. 

“Master Harry Potter’s be calling Dobby?”

Harry gave Dobby a smile and ignored Draco’s confusion. “Hi, Dobby, could you pop into my room and scream? Pop out before anyone can tell you to stop and if someone gets mad, tell them it was on my orders and do not punish yourself. Thank you.”

He didn’t wait for Dobby’s answer and turned back to Draco with a small, mischievous smile and leaned back in his arm chair. 

Draco stared at him for a minute and the only sound was the library’s fireplace crackling. 

“Alright,” Draco sighed and spelled the chess set to put itself away. “What was the about. What are you doing?”

Harry steepled his fingers in front of him, resting his elbows on the cushioned arms of his chair. 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

  
When Harry went to his room that evening after dinner, he couldn’t help a giggle that slipped out when he noticed the slightly crumpled letter on his pillow. 

“Harry,

I saw you in the gardens yesterday, perhaps you would like to join me for a walk? It’s rather chilly out and I would hate for you to get a cold. It cannot be fun to be holed up in a room for days, but not to worry; I would be sure to keep you company. 

Please respond in a timely manner.

~T. M. R.

If you send that wretched elf to scream at me again, I will personally order it to maim itself, then order Lucius to free it, then kill it.”

Harry snickered at the last part, he could tell it was added after the rest was written; the last section was written in normal script and slightly shaky while the previous message was in an elegant cursive that was obvious had taken care. 

Harry went to his desk and got a sheet of parchment and a quill and an ink bottle and thought of his own response. 

Harry strongly wanted to address Riddle as some sort of insult. Like “dear dickhead” or “pedo”, but Harry didn’t want to seem uneducated. 

He suspected with Draco beginning to swear his own obscenities were working their way out. 

Harry felt a dark smile curl his lip. 

“Dearest Tom,

Perhaps a screaming house elf wouldn’t pester you if you didn’t enter someone’s room without permission. Expect a number of surprises if you do so again, each as pleasant as the first. My only regret is not seeing your shock in person. 

Kindly fuck off and leave me alone. We wouldn’t want something drastic to happen, would we?

Leave me alone,  
Harry Potter”

  
Harry decided to leave it on the desk and send it in the morning. He also decided to spare Dobby and request Mipsy. 

Draco invited his friends over the next day, and they were all surprised when Harry joined them. 

Pansy saddled up next to him as Draco, Zabini, and Nott Jr. ran off to the broom shed. 

“How’d it go with handsome?” She asked, holding onto his elbow. 

Harry sneered, “Who’s _handsome_?”

She levelled a look at him with pursed lips, “Tall, dark, mysterious? You danced the night away with him?”

Harry flushed and snorted, “It was one song.”

Pansy raised an eyebrow, “You two danced for thirty minutes.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, “We _what_!?”

Pansy dropped her hand and turned to face him, “You two were dancing for a while. Blaise and Theo placed a bet to see if you two would . . . “

She trailed off and looked at him while raising her eyebrows. 

Harry only stared at her, “Would what?” He prompted. 

She looked to the side to make sure the other boys weren’t watching. “You know,” she answered unhelpfully. 

Harry shook his head and Pansy looked at him with wider eyes. 

“Merlin’s saggy left testicle, you really don’t know!”

Harry cringed but agreed silently. 

“Potter, he didn’t just want to waltz with you, he wanted to do the sideways tango!”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose. “I don’t know what that is.”

“You know, the Devil’s dance,” she said wiggling her eyebrows. 

Harry just got more confused. “I didn’t even know you knew what the devil was.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and groaned. “The pants-off dance-off?”

Harry crosses his arms, “I don’t know much about dancing.”

“Oh, my Merlin, Potter. Snog. Adult nap-time. Shaking out the sheets. Funny business. Alone time.”

Harry stared at her. 

“_FUCKING_, POTTER!” She yelled, causing Harry to flinch and the three boys to look at them. “Merlin, you’re dense.”

Harry sputtered, “I’m not dense! I just—I didn’t think you’d know about—_that_!”

Harry himself hadn’t learnt about _that_ until he was in fifth year during his first life, and by then he’d heard about most of the basics from the boys in the Gryffindor dorm talking about what they’d do to other girls in their year. 

He’d gotten “the talk” with Ron from Fred and George, and it was horrible. He didn’t like to think about it much. 

Harry hunched his shoulders and waved at her with furiously shaking hands. “But that’s not even the point, I’m not—We aren’t —that wasn’t—it didn’t—wasn’t like that!”

Pansy smirked at him. “You’re awfully adamant about it.”

Harry stared at her with a fawning horror. “I’m not—_covering_ up! I just—“

She cut him off with a pat on his shoulder, “It’s okay, you don’t want anyone to know. Your secret is safe with me.”

Harry shook his head in horror as she nodded with a grin and mimed zipping her lips. 

He resolutely ignored Riddle’s letters for the rest of the holiday. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Naarcissa caught him after lunch near the end of the holiday and asked that he walk with her to the gardens.

“Harry, Draco’s been telling me some concerning things.”

Harry muttered a curse under his breath and glared to the side.

Narcissa quirked her lips in a private smile, “He tells me no one sends you letters.”

Harry reared his head back. _That’s what this is about?_

He looked at her and realised she was waiting for him to reply. “Oh, er, I mean that’s not exactly true. I get letters from Professor Flitwick, he’s my head of house, and Patil.”

Narcissa snorted, “Oh yes, I’ve heard about her.”

She sat down on a stone bench and patted the spot next to her for Harry to sit.

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Draco is quite the jealous sort, and he was positively livid that you chose to be that Patil girl’s partner over him.”

Harry ducked his head and felt his face flush.

Narcissa chuckled, “Don’t worry, he needs to learn to share. Pansy and him do well together.”

Harry peaked at her with a slight smile, “That’s just what he tells you. Those two argue like Lucius and Arthur sometimes.”

Narcissa actually laughed and Harry snickered to himself.

When she calmed down, Narcissa gave him a soft look that had Harry hunching his shoulders.

“I got you a Yule present,” she said, after a minute of silence. “I didn’t want to single you out at the ball or embarrass you, and there never was a good time to give it to you until now.”

She pulled a bag seemingly out of nowhere and placed it next to Harry. He stared at it as if it would disappear.

She gently put her hand on his knee, “We enjoy having you here, Harry. No matter what anyone may try to convince you, we like having _you_ here. Not this ruddy Boy-Who-Lived nonsense.”

Harry gaped at her and she smiled before patting his leg as she stood up, “I’m not going to watch you open it. And, if you need _anything_, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Harry waited until he couldn’t hear her footsteps before he opened the bag.

It was a silver ring with the Malfoy crest stamped into it. It wasn’t with their house colours, so it wasn’t an heir ring. But it was a family ring. And that made Harry want to cry from the weight of his emotions.

Instead, he slipped it on his right ring finger and stared out at the garden, watching the flowers blow in the slight breeze.

He’d deal with the rest of the implications over summer.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The rest of his year at Hogwarts sucked ass. Sirius Black had not been caught and Seamus was spreading it around that if they set a trap using Harry as bait, they could apprehend him. 

Patil told him about the rumour during a potions class. 

“Honestly, how thick can he get?” She asked, clearly more upset than Harry as she stirred the potion clockwise. 

Behind them were the Slytherin’s, specifically Draco and Pansy. The two were bickering over who had to get the last ingredients. 

Harry reread the directions and started slicing the lacewing flies. 

“It’s fine. I’m used to these rumours by now.”

Patil shook her head but let it drop. “Hufflepuff verse Gryffindor tomorrow. Are you going?”

She always asked and he always said no. “I have better things—hang on. You said Gryffindor and Hufflepuff?”

Patil nodded but kept her attention on the potion that was fading from a sickly green to a lighter blue. 

Harry pursed his lips. No doubt this would be the time if a dementor was going to get its cold, bony hands on a student. 

Harry grimaced, “Absolutely not. I’ll probably be writing the essay for potions.”

Patil made a sound at the back of her throat. “We just got back, there’s no essay for potions.”

Harry snorted and sliced the lacewing fly strips into the potion. “Knowing Snape, we’ll have an essay assigned within the hour.”

Harry had been right. They had to write a three-foot essay over the effects of Dementors and what potions could alleviate symptoms and possibly block them out altogether. 

Harry shot Patil a smug smirk and she rolled her eyes with a grin. “Oh, whatever. You’ll be missing out.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I hear Wood’s been going crazy over the quidditch training sessions ever since Cedric joined the Hufflepuff team.”

Harry hummed, but gained no interest. He would prefer to not be flying in the air tomorrow. 

Saturdays were usually his free time with Draco, but now that there was a Quidditch game tomorrow, he could all but kiss that goodbye. 

Maybe he’d find Luna and talk with her about her father’s recent article in the quibbler about the conspiracy theory that ministry was using poly juice to disguise themselves and spy on the common man. 

  
Saturday morning saw a very paranoid Harry. When students ran past him, causing a slight wind to ruffle his robes, his heart pounded and his hands started shaking. 

He sat with the Slytherin’s at breakfast, surrounding himself with familiar and somewhat friendly faces to help alleviate his unease. 

He sent a paper airplane to Luna over breakfast asking to hang out with her in the afternoon and she agreed with a dreamy smile, asking if they could visit the thestrals since they’d been alone all break. 

He readily agreed. 

Draco turned his head up and looked away as if he wasn’t bothered. “What do I care if you don’t go to the game?”

Pansy cooed, “Aw, Draco’s getting jealous~”

Draco flushed and stared at Pansy horrified and flipped his stared from her to Harry. “No—I just, Saturdays are Harry and I’s days.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Well, maybe they’ll just be my days with a blonde. It can alternate between you and Luna.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open, “You can’t be serious! Malfoy’s are platinum, not blond!”

Pansy snorted and Harry acted sceptical, “I don’t know Draco, Luna’s hair is _natural_.”

Draco looked like he was genuinely hurt and Harry felt something twist in his stomach unpleasantly.

“I’m joking Draco! I’m sorry, if you want to hang out with us today you can.” Harry rushed out, feeling uncomfortably warm. 

Draco sniffed like he was better than that, but agreed to save his judgement on Luna in person. 

Harry gave him a smile that caused the blonde to turn pink and put all of his attention on his food. 

  
Visiting the thestrals had been interesting. Draco obviously hadn’t seen death yet, and though Luna and Harry were pulling him on until one ate a chunk of meat Luna tossed up. 

Harry snickered and Draco swore that it wasn’t a scream, it was a shout of alarm. But the blonde insisted he wasn’t scared. 

Harry turned his attention to a baby thestral while Draco sulked against a tree. 

“So, Luna, notice any Wackspurts lately?”

He hummed and looked at him excitedly, “Oh yes, they’ve been cycling through the castle, I’ve never seen them move from person to person so quickly before.”

Draco sat up, “I’m sorry, what are we talking about?”

Harry waved him off, “Don’t worry you aren’t infested like some of the kids here.”

Luna nodded and gently pat the thestral closest to her, “Oh yes, Harry here had a horrible case earlier, but they’ve faded some. And Professor Snape is practically swarmed—“

Harry hummed in agreement, “I know what you mean, I’d feel bad for the guy if he weren’t so bloody awful.”

Draco gave his two cents. “He isn’t awful, he’s—a bit terrible, isn’t he? But he’s been through a lot.”

Luna gave Draco a soft smile, “He loves you; you know.”

Draco crossed his arms and huffed while his cheeks turned pink, “Well of course he does, he’s my godfather.”

“He is?” Harry asked, though he already knew Severus was Draco’s godfather. 

Draco rolled his eyes and told them how close Severus had been with Lucius before the war. 

“They were like brothers, but closer. Father hates dirty blood but, he always had a soft spot for Severus.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and shared a look with Luna that Draco didn’t see, but ultimately kept his mouth shut. 

Luna shared how happy her dad had been with her mum. 

“He would sing to us. My mum would dance with me while he sang. It didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing. We could’ve been cooking or working out in the garden and dad would just go off key on some muggle song and mum would laugh and hold my hand and dance with me.”

The thestrals looked around and turned to find a new place to graze. 

Draco looked around at the noise and Harry sat by him and put a hand on his shoulder, “They’re moving on.”

Draco nodded and Luna sat beside Harry as the three of them looked towards where the castle was over the hills. 

“I don’t remember what my parents did,“ Harry admitted softly. 

Draco glanced at him to let Harry know he was listening and Harry knew Luna was listening. 

“I remember—that night,” his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned, “I remember it so well, my room, the noises, the—the light. It was so bright.”

Draco was fully looking at Harry now, but Harry kept his eyes locked on the top of the castle. 

“I don’t know if my dad sang or if my mum danced. They were so young,” Harry felt his breath stutter and didn’t talk about it again. 

Draco put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and let the dark-haired boy lean on him. 

“My dad doesn’t sing. My mum dances but, not the way Lovegood’s mum did.”

Finally, Luna turned to look at Draco. She looked around his head, “If you keep thinking like that, the Wackspurts will come.”

Harry snorted. “At least my dad didn’t have homoerotic tendencies.”

Draco squawked and Luna giggled, and when she and Harry locked eyes the two started laughing openly. 

Draco scowled, but wasn’t truly angry. Not when he hadn’t seen Harry laugh so freely in the time that he’d known the darker boy. 

When the two had settled down, Luna looked at the sky. 

“A dog will catch a rat today.”

Harry tried not to tense, but he couldn’t help it, and Draco noticed. 

“What does that mean?”

Harry looked at the sky too and saw it getting cloudy. He pushed himself up on the ground and rubbed his hands on his pants. 

“It means, we shouldn’t be out after dark. Come on, let’s go.”

He offered Draco a hand as Luna grabbed two sticks. Draco didn’t ask and neither did Harry when she put them in her bag and the three of them began their trek through the Dark Forest. 

Luna didn’t look at the two boys when she spoke, “How was the Yule Ball?”

Harry felt his cheeks flush and glared at the shorter girl, knowing her dreamy smile was more of a knowing smirk. 

Draco scowled, “Other than Harry getting himself a boyfriend—“

“He’s not my boyfriend! I hate him so much,” He muttered. 

Draco snorted, but didn’t say anything on it further. 

Harry heaved a sigh, “How was your holiday, Luna?”

Luna smiled, “Quite terrible, dad was attacked by a blibbering-humdinger and wasn’t able to get pictures.”

“That sucks.” Harry murmured, resolutely ignoring Draco’s incredulous face. 

They were walking past the lake when Harry felt a chill. 

He stopped and looked at the water, checking if it was frozen. 

Draco and Luna stopped a few footsteps away. 

“What’re you doing?” Draco asked, scrunching his face up in confusion. 

“Luna, love?” Harry called, watching with a growing ice in his stomach as the grass began to crystallise. 

She hummed. 

“Did the dog get the rat?”

“Oh yes, almost two hours ago.”

“Merlin—dammit!”

Draco felt the wind pick up and shivered, “What’s the big deal? I don’t—“

He cut himself off with he saw his breath come out in puffs. 

“Oh shit,” Draco whispered. 

Mentally, Harry agreed. 

The dementors weren’t supposed to be here until after dark, but of course Harry had never been out by the lake before then, so he never really/ knew if it was only when Sirius had been there. 

In actuality, Harry realised, it was pretty stupid of him to assume the dementors just didn’t come to the lake until Sirius was there. They always took a liking to himself, anyway. 

Luna shivered beside him, “Can you handle this?”

Draco looked at the sky as he inched closer to Harry and Luna. “I don’t see them, but I remember—“

He didn’t finish his sentence and Harry knew why. The lake had almost completely frozen over and a crushing weight settled that made Harry want to curl up forever. 

He let his wand fall into his hand and tried to look around for any sign of a dementor. 

Luna grabbed his arm delicately and Draco held his hand less delicately. In the back of his mind, Harry knew it was because Luna knew they would be okay and Draco had no idea how bad it was going to get. 

“I don’t see them,” Draco breathed out, as if speaking normally would summon the dementors out of hiding. 

Harry couldn’t hold back a shiver and turned his head to look into the dark forest. When he looked back at Draco, he saw the blonde staring wide-eyed and frozen at the sight of a decaying cloaked figure in front of him. 

Harry pointed his wand at the creature and tried to calmly recite the incantation. In the end, he said it more panicky than he would’ve liked. 

“Expecto Patronum!” The dementor fled away from Draco and the short blast of magic from Harry, though the blonde was left shaking and pale. 

Luna tugged his arm and when Harry turned his head, more dementors were coming at them. 

“It’s happening now then,” Harry couldn’t help but mutter. 

Soon the trio was surrounded, so much so they couldn’t see anything but the grey of the sky and the black mass of the dementors. 

Luna’s hand fell from his arm and clutched his robes instead. Draco had moved behind Harry and was holding onto Luna and Harry. 

Harry stared Draco a short glance, “I’m going to pass out. When I do, aim your wand at the sky and say ‘Periculum’.”

Harry didn’t wait for their agreement before he focused all his energy on the next patronus charm. 

He didn’t see Prongs, just a force-field of light that forced the dementors away from them. He maintained the connection until he heard the ice on the lake crack apart, and could no longer see his breath. 

When he lowered his wand, he was breathing heavily and felt like his limbs were replaced with lead. 

Before he could do or say anything else, magical exhaustion took over and he felt himself lose strength and consciousness, and spared a prayer that Draco and Luna could get him to the castle. 

  
Harry woke up almost a week later to see two Slytherin’s and a Ravenclaw by his bedside. 

“What the hell are you all doing here?” Harry groaned out, as he reached to put his glasses on. 

Their hushed conversation died as they all stared at him. Luna smiled, “We made a club.”

Pansy hissed at her to shut up, but Luna payed her no mind. 

“A club? What for?” Harry asked, wincing as he pushed himself to sit up. 

Luna carries on, “Think of us as a sort of,” she paused to think of the right words, “Harry Potter Protection Squad.”

Harry snorted, “I hardly need protection. What about a blonde protection squad?”

Draco tried to defend himself, but Pansy rolled her eyes. 

“Not from dementors, dumbass.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “You guys think you can stop You-Know-Who?”

Pansy snorted, “Of course not. And to be frank, if he offered me immunity in exchange for you, I wouldn’t say no.”

Draco was cut off from whatever they were going to say in reprimand when Harry gave a nod, “That’s fair.”

Draco stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Harry shrugged, “He’s scary as shit, and I completely understand.”

Pansy gave a devious smirk, “And this is why you need protection.”

Harry reared his head back and scrunched his nose, “How d’you figure that?”

“You don’t protect yourself, so we will. You drained your magic to protect Draco and Luna, you were completely fine with the idea of me selling you out. You maybe cunning enough by Slytherin’s standards, but your lack of self-preservation would make you a terrible snake.” 

Harry snorted but didn’t disagree. 

They were talking about what he’d missed in class when Patil burst through the doors with a newspaper in her hand. 

“Guys—! Oh, Potter! Good to see you awake!”

“Why do you have the profit?” Pansy asked. 

Patil had moved to Luna’s side. 

“Peter Pettigrew was found—alive,” Draco ripped the paper out of her hands and skimmed over it. 

“Holy shit!”

Pansy was the next one to get it and Luna winked at Harry and the two shared a secret smile. 

“Black—he’s innocent!” Pansy exclaimed, passing the paper to Luna, who read it as if she had any real interest in it. 

Harry hummed, “Wonder how the ministry will cover that fuck up. They could get massively sued if Black cared enough. He never got a trial, you know.”

Draco let out a small gasp, “Wait until my mother hears about this.”

“Your mother?” Harry asked. 

“She was a Black, even if she didn’t always get alone with Sirius, she’ll help him out. I have to go write a letter.” Draco had taken off before anyone could say anything else. 

Harry looked at the three girls, “Well. That was unexpected.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know who you want Harry to end up with; I’m leaning towards Tom or Draco but if you want to see Harry and Padma or Pansy let me know. I’m also thinking about a poly relationship between Tom, Harry, and Draco. Let me know what you’d like to see!


	4. Author Note/ Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry it’s not a real chapter

Okay, I’m going to be rewriting most of the Year Three Chapters because I completely forgot about Professor Lupin and I’ll probably be adding some scenes with Dumbledore.

I am still working on future chapters so I will still be updating as I rewrite, sorry if this is confusing or if you have to reread a chapter for a scene that was added.

Thank you for your support and I am working on a new chapter to post before the revisions begin.


	5. Beginning Year Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i will almost definitely combine the year four chapters after i’ve got them al written and posted, but i don’t want to wait any more to update this story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of potential sexual abuse of a minor

The second day after third year ended, Harry “met” Sirius Black. 

Dumbledore had arranged it; a meeting at the Leaky Cauldron, in a room with just the two of them. 

Harry had never seen Sirius so nervous. The man was wringing his hands and he was hunched in on himself. 

Harry was more calm. He knew if Sirius didn’t pass his psych evaluation, then he could just stay with the Malfoy’s. Or, rather he could go to the Dursley’s to keep Dumbledore from meddling and go to the Malfoy’s later. 

“Harry,” Sirius drew him out of his thoughts. 

“You’re my godfather?” Harry asked, making sure to seem dubious. 

“Yes—! I—I was in prison, wrongfully convicted, mind you but—Merlin, you’ve grown. Of course you have, it’s been twelve years but, you look so much like James.”

Harry stiffened. He did not want to be compared to his father. Or either of his parents, to tell the truth, but he’d come to terms with the fact that James was a bully. Less like Malfoy was on Life 1 and more like Dudley always is. 

He’d also decided not to guilt Sirius for abandoning him to chase Peter. (He’d done that on Lives 4-9 and nothing ever came out of it other than a guilty godfather.) 

“I know you’re innocent. Draco told me his mother would look into how they let you rot without a trial for so long.”

Sirius made a noise at the back of his through but Harry didn’t comment on it. “Er, Draco?”

“Malfoy.”

“Malfoy!? Harry, you can’t mean that you two are friends!?”

Harry knew this would be Sirius’s reaction but he couldn’t help but feel a protective rage for the blond. 

“Yes, in fact he is my only friend. Do you have a problem with it?” 

Sirius threw his arms out and tried to walk towards Harry before deciding it would be best to keep his distance. 

“Of course—he’s a Slytherin! A follower of—“ he choked, “You-Know-Who.”

Harry gave him a flat look and sat on one of the chairs. “He’s thirteen.”

Sirius scoffed, “Merlin knows Malfoy—Lucius—was a Death Eater by then.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I get enough ridicule from everyone else. Do I have to get it from you too?”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth before sighing heavily. “Harry, I’m sure Draco is pleasant, maybe even nice, but that’s what You-Know-Who does. He uses people to get what he wants—“

“Is he even alive? I mean, really, if Pettigrew was dead after only finding a finger, why is Voldemort alive when all they found were his clothes?”

“Harry!” Sirius reprimanded. 

“No, I don’t _need_ this! Draco is my friend, my _best friend_, and you’re judging him before you know him!“

Sirius stared at him with an open mouth and Harry sneered. 

When Sirius didn’t move and Harry huffed again, “Whatever, they took me in last summer when I had nowhere to go. So don’t...bullshit me about how he’s some dark and dangerous person.”

Sirius has looked down and fiddled with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. 

Sirius looked to the side and pursed his lips. “My mother did the same thing. I went to Gryffindor, made friends with your dad, and she told me he was the wrong sort. I never imagined I would be the same way.”

His voice was a whisper and Harry knew he was reevaluating his approach. 

Harry heaved a sigh, “Sirius you can’t expect _all_ Slytherins to be evil, just like you can’t pretend all Gryffindors are good.”

Sirius looked like he was going to argue but deflated before he could say anything. “You’re right.”

Harry gave a small smirk, “I usually am.”

Sirius quirked his mouth. “Ravenclaw, huh?”

Harry shrugged, “Apparently its where I’m best suited.”

“Your mum was supposed to be a Ravenclaw, did you know?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed automatically. He’d always heard Lily and James were the perfect Gryffindor couple. 

Sirius chuckled at Harry’s look. “People are always surprised that I was Lily’s friend too. We were in the common room—first year. I wasn’t close with James yet, we might not have even been friends. A lot of people avoided me in Gryffindor.”

Harry had never heard this story, “Why?”

Sirius snorted, “I was a Black, the first Black /not in Slytherin. People assumed that I was dark and evil.” He winced. “Kind of like what I did with Malfoy. Er—Draco.”

Harry gave a small smile. 

“She didn’t know about all the prejudice so she was one of the few people who would even talk to me at the beginning of the year. She told me once in the common room,” Sirius looked at the ceiling and gave a soft smile. “She told me she was scared.”

“Scared?”

Sirius looked at Harry as if he’d forgotten the boy was in the room. Sirius sat down next to him. “She said she made a mistake. She asked the hat for Gryffindor.”

Harry reared his head back, “But why? She was a muggleborn right, how would she know?”

Sirius shook his head, “She read books about notable wizards and most of the famous ones from Britain were Gryffindors. Lily wanted to make something of herself. She thought Gryffindor would get her there.”

Sirius leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. 

“She was right.” Was all that Sirius said after that. 

  
Sirius wasn’t deemed stable enough to be Harry’s guardian over the summer, which, fair point. 

The man had spent thirteen years of his life reliving the worst parts of it. 

Although Harry knew Sirius had managed to avoid a lot of terror and torture by turning into an animagus, he was still always surprised by how cheerful and _normal_ Sirius had seemed. 

It made sense that it was all a front. 

Sirius had night terrors and would sometimes hallucinate, during his stay at St. Mungos. 

They deemed him unfit as a guardian, but said he had the potential to do it later, after at least a year of sessions with a mind healer. 

It was surprisingly easy to stay with the Malfoy’s over the summer. 

Lucius requested a meeting with Minister Fudge about some troubling things he’d discovered about Harry Potter after spending a few months with him. 

Harry snorted at the thought. There was no telling what sort of bullshit Lucius was spinning about how traumatic the Dursley’s had been. 

Dumbledore tried to fight them on it, saying he knew what was best for Harry and that the blood wards were vital in Harry’s protection. 

Harry had a meeting with a social worker about it. He’d been given a sort of underage-veratiserum. 

It was a modified potion designed specifically for kids. It couldn’t force them to answer but it did ensure whatever they said was the truth. It lasted less than an hour, but their was an antidote on hand in case the child grew uncomfortable. 

Harry was peeved he’d never heard of it before. 

He met with a woman from the ministry, she was polite and calm and wasn’t annoying. 

She didn’t sugar coat the questions or be overly blunt. Her voice was sweet, but not high pitched or squeaky. She had dark hair and a Brooklyn accent. He didn’t quite catch her name, but it started with a K.

“Hello, Harry. Do you know why you’re here today?”

Harry nodded but spoke anyways, knowing the conversation was probably being transcribed with a legitimate ’Quit Quotes Quill’. “Yea, you’re going to ask me about my home life.”

The woman nodded and gave a soft smile, “Yes. Are you comfortable with the usage of Tiraveisum, the ministry approved child veratiserum?”

Harry agreed and was given a small vial that tasted like cough syrup. 

“Were the Dursley’s nice to you?”

Harry gave a small smirk with a snort, “Not even once.”

She didn’t frown when she continued, “Do you believe they were cruel to you?”

Harry slightly winced, “I don’t think..._they_ believe they were cruel to me, so it would be unfair to call them that. I think they saw themselves as the heroic victims, being forced to care for a freaky child and trying to save themselves by beating the magic out.”

She sat up straighter, “‘Beat the magic out’? Do you mean that literally?”

Harry nodded, “If something went wrong, I was to blame. Once, Uncle Vernon bought a lottery ticket and when he didn’t win he locked me in the cupboard for a week after a good lashing.”

She nodded throughout the ordeal with her eyebrows knit together, “The cupboard?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. It was my bedroom for eleven years.”

She frowned, “Did you tell anyone?”

Harry bit his cheek, “I told an primary school teacher, but I transferred to a different school brie anything came of it. My Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs though.”

She pursed her lips and they sat in silence. 

“Were you fed regularly?” 

Harry had to pause, “I guess? I got a slice of bread every couple of days, so...”

He trailed off and left it for her to figure the rest, which was a _no_. 

“Have you been verbally abused at the Dursley’s?”

“Yes.” Harry replied without hesitating. 

“Was this by your cousin and his friends or by Mr. and Mrs. Dursley?”

“Yes.” Harry answered again. He heaved a sighed, “It was most everyone who saw me really. The Dursley’s made sure everyone thought I was a delinquent. Neighbours called me all sorts of nasty things. Dudley and his gang called me queer, slut, and other slurs. 

“Mr. Dursley frequently called me freak. I thought it was my name until primary school.”

Harry took a shuddering breath, “He called me boy. Sometimes he’d whisper it against my cheek when Petunia and Dudley had gone to bed.”

The woman looked up sharply, “Did he touch you?”

Harry faintly shook his head, caught up in the feeling of complete helplessness, “No. I think he was going to though. He’d look at me a lot, like Dudley looked at half naked girls on the telly. He called me _boy_, every night after everyone else has gone to bed.”

He swallowed thickly and looked up at her through his eyelashes, making sure to keep his mind blank, “Headmaster Dumbledore called me his boy.”

Needless to say, Harry was allowed to stay with the Malfoy’s until a proper trial for custody could be held. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the social worker/ministry lady was DEFINITELY meant to be Queenie and Jacob’s daughter.
> 
> She inherited her mothers knack for legilemency and works with abused children and domestic violence a lot.


End file.
